Desolation Row
by ohheyhey
Summary: After being abandoned by her boyfriend in the middle of the apocalypse, Diana finds a way out through the barrel of a gun. Just as she is about to pull the trigger, she gets a second chance at survival from the Atlanta group. DarylxOC
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** This is my first attempt at writing a Walking Dead fanfic. Reviews and _**CONSTRUCTIVE**_ criticisms are welcome. The story starts before the beginning of season 1. And obviously I own none of the characters from the Walking Dead series.

**Summary:** After being abandoned by her boyfriend in the middle of the apocalypse, Diana finds a way out through the barrel of a gun. Just as she is about to pull the trigger, she gets a second chance at survival from the Atlanta group.

**Chapter 1: One Too Many Mornings  
**

The scraping of knife against the wood of the coffee table was soothing. I carved over the same mark over and over, just to hear the noise. It was too damn quiet out in the woods. Living in the city, I was accustomed to the sounds of cars and people 24 hours a day. The yelling and occasional sirens had become white noise to me over the years.

But out in the woods, it was quiet. Except for the crickets and birds. Sometimes I thought I could hear a coyote. And every now and then I would hear the sickening groans of the infected.

Sighing, I placed my knife back down on the table and began my daily ritual of counting the marks. Even though I knew how many there were, I still counted them. It was just something to occupy my time.

_1, 2, 3, 4..._

I had thought the end of the world would be different. That all my time would be spent on surviving. But most of the time I sat around and did nothing but stare off into space. I stood up slowly, and hobbled my way over to the window. I pulled back the curtain slightly and peered out. No new game in my snares today.

I made my way slowly back to the coffee table. My leg was still in pain, and I winced as I lowered my self back to the floor and continued my counting.

_29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 34..._

The pistol had never moved from it's spot on the table. I stared at it, as I did everyday. I had nine bullets. Not enough to hunt with, not that I was in the condition to do so. And the noise would draw the undead to the cabin. In my situation, there was only one thing the gun was good for, and I was too chicken to do it.

_39, 40, 41._

I had been in the cabin a grand total of 41 days. But ten days ago was when he left me here to rot.

* * *

_**41 days earlier...**_

I opened my eyes slowly. My head was throbbing furiously. As my eyes focused, I could finally take in the scene. I realized the car was on it's side, and the front of the car, where I was sitting, was completely smashed in, and my left foot was tangled in the wreckage.

"Mark?" I croaked. I looked over to the driver's seat, but he wasn't there. Somehow he managed to get out. His side of the car wasn't as bad as mine, but it seemed he had to climb out the window.

"Diana? I'm here!" I heard his rushed footsteps approach the driver's side of the car. He peered in throught the window, and I saw his face was bloody from a gash just above his eyebrow. Other than that and a few minor cuts and bruises, he was okay.

"You okay?" I asked, trying to hide my own pain.

"I'm fine, what about you? Where are you hurt?" Mark looked me over for any obvious damage.

"Just my foot..." I looked down at where my feet should have been. My right foot was okay, and I knew I could get it free. My left foot was an entirely different story. It was the worst pain I'd ever felt. "I think it's broken or something."

"Do you think you can move it?"

"I think so... but I think my jeans are caught on something," I slowly tried to untangle my foot from the mess that used to be the dashboard, which only resulted in even worse pain, and I couldn't stop myself from crying out this time.

"Sorry! I'm sorry," Mark ran his hand through his hair. "I've tried calling an ambulance, but I can't get any signal." The tears I was holding back finally freed themselves. "I'm so sorry, this is all my fault. So much for a relaxing vacation in the mountains."

I gave him a weak but (hopefully) reassuring smile. We had been on our way home from his parents' cabin. The place didn't have any electricity, and the trip was meant to be a getaway from the city. But we ended our trip with the weekend because we aren't exactly outdoorsy people. Well, that and other reasons. Neither of us had seen the man stumble out on the road before it was too late.

"Oh my god," My eyes widened with the realization that there was a third party involved in the accident, "Is that other man okay?"

"Jesus fucking Chirst-" Mark jumped up and raced back behind the car and out of my sight. I tried to turn to see where he went, but it only hurt more. Instead, I strained to hear what was going on.

"Hey!" I heard Mark call out, "Hey, are you alright? I didn't see-" There was some shuffling, and groaning, "Oh, man, I'm so sorry. I think you should sit down... you really don't look that good..."

Something was up. I was starting to get nervous and I could feel the goosebumps starting to appear on my arms. I was starting to freak out that I couldn't see what was happening. "Mark?" I called, "Is everything okay?"

"Please, just calm down," Mark's voice was panicked. I tried to see what was happening in the rearview mirror. Mark was backing up towards the car, and I could see the man hobbling towards him. There was definitely something wrong with this guy, and I could tell it wasn't from the accident. His arms swung wildly as he walked, and his skin was a sickly pale greenish color. His eyes were glazed over and yellowed. But the worst was that chunk of calf missing on his leg. Something had clearly taken a bite out of this man.

"Mark..," I squealed, as the man came closer. There was nothing I could do but watch the scene in the mirror. In classic horror movie style, Mark tripped and crawled backwards in a desperate attempt to escape the man. "Mark, get up! Get up!" I screamed, as if it would somehow magically bring him to his feet.

"Please," Mark begged, but the man, or whatever it was, only groaned in response. It was so close to Mark now, and I had no idea what was going to happen to him. I frantically struggled to free myself from car, ignoring the pain in my foot. I finally managed to tear my jeans free and maneuver my foot out of the wreck, though not succeeding in hold back the cries of pain. I climbed out of the driver's side window and carefully lowered myself to the road. I could feel the adrenaline coursing through my body, and I knew that it was holding back some of the pain. I would be in for a lot worse when it wore off.

I couldn't stand, so I crawled on my stomach towards Mark. The man was now reaching for him, and Mark was fending him off by kicking at him. "MARK!" The man stopped, and I stupidly thought the ordeal was over. But then, he directed his efforts at me. I scrambled backwards, inwardly cursing myself.

A shot rang out, and I watched the man's head explode right in front of me.

I couldn't look away from him. He was lying face down on the road, and there was blood pouring out of his head. But it didn't look right. It seemed to have already coagulated. And the veins in his skin were very prominent. And god, he stank.

It wasn't until Mark shook me out of my stupor that I realized I was sobbing. I mean, I was grateful that we were no longer at the mercy of a deranged stranger, but seeing someone's head blown off is kind of traumatizing.

"Babe, are you okay?!" Mark took my face in his hands, frantically checking me over for anymore injuries. Before I could answer, there was a loud clicking sound to our left and I was looking down the barrel of a gun.

"Were you bit?" I looked past the shotgun to see a man who seemed to be in his late fifties. His greying hair peeked out form under his trucker hat, and he had a beard to match. He looked like the love child of Rambo and Santa Claus.

"Look man, we were just in an acci-" Mark started, but the man cut him off.

"I asked you a question. Were you bit? Or scratched?"

"N-no," Mark continued, "We were driving back to the city, but that... that guy just came out of nowhere and I swerved but... I tried to make sure he was okay-"

"What's wrong wit you?" He pointed the gun at me and I threw my hands in the air. "You bit?"

"No! It's my foot," I wiped away some of the tears off my face, "I think I broke it in the accident."

"Grab yer things outta the car if ya can, my cabin ain't that far from here," He ordered in a thick, southern accent, "Y'all can stay with me 'n my wife. But we gotta move, that shot will draw more to the area."

"I don't think I can walk," I said weakly. The adrenaline was starting to wear off, and the pain was more intense.

"Can you carry'er?" Mark nodded, "Good. I'll grab the bags and we'll head out."

"I'm sorry," Mark stood up quickly, "Who are you? We aren't going to stay with some random stranger who just blew off a sick man's head!"

"Where have ya two been fer the past week?" The man almost laughed, "Y'all haven't been watching tha news?"

"We've been in the mountains for the past four days," I replied calmly. I didn't really want to upset the man with a shotgun. "We didn't have a t.v. or anything."

"Well, I'll explain on the way. But it's getting dark now and more of those things will be out. We need to get back to shelter." He moved towards the trunk of the car to get our bags. Mark helped him get the trunk open.

"What things?"

"The undead."

* * *

_**Present day...**_

The caravan came to a stop at a clearing in the woods. Shane stepped out of his car, waiting for everyone else to follow suit. The RV behind him was smoking, and Dale, the driver quickly ran out to find the source of the problem.

"I think it's the hose," The older man stated, "I meant to replace the damn part, but never got around to it."

"Do you think you could have it up and running before sundown?" Shane asked. "We're too close to the city still, we need to get to that quarry."

"It might be a coupla hours, but I think so." Dale replied. Almost everyone left their cars, eager to stretch their legs and get some fresh air. They all started to make their way towards him, looking to their leader for the next mode of action.

"Looks like we're gonna be stuck here for a while," Shane announced, "Once the RV is fixed, we'll head on out. Meantime, stay close. Don't go wanderin' off without tellin' anyone." Shane looked around the area, trying figure where would be the best spot to set up a lookout.

"Hey Shane," Morales called to him, "There's a gravel road on the other side of the clearing."

"You think it might lead to something?" the cop asked.

"Maybe a ranger's station or a cabin? I think it's worth checking out though. Might have some supplies."

"We are running low on medical supplies," Lori joined the conversation, brushing a lock of brown hair from her face.

"Alright," Shane said, "But I'm going. I want you," he gestured to Morales, "to keep a lookout. Ask that asian kid-"

"Glenn?" Morales offered.

"Yeah Glenn. Tell him he's on lookout duty too." Shane walked back over to his truck and grabbed his pistol and a knife.

"Shane, you can't go alone," Lori had caught up to him, "It's way too dangerous."

"I'm not goin alone," He made sure the pistol was loaded and put it in the holster on his belt. He attached the knife to his belt too.

"Who's going with you?" She asked, "Jim and Dale are working on the RV and Morales and Glenn are the lookouts, and..." It suddenly dawned on her, "You're going to ask one of the Dixons?"

"The younger one," Shane clarified, "He's got a crossbow which is a lot quieter than a gun. And he seems to know his way around the woods." He walked over to the truck at the end of the line of cars. He could see the older brother- Merle?- leaning against the truck, smoking a cigarette. The other was rooting through a bag, probably looking for his own pack.

"I don't think it's a good idea," Lori whispered, "They're unpredictable. You need someone you can rely on..."

"It'll be fine," Shane assured her, "We're only gonna be gone for an hour or so. I can handle this." He approached the younger brother, and cleared his throat to make his presence known. "Hey man, I could use your help."

"Daryl ain't gotta do shit fer you," Merle answered, "He get's killed out there, then I'll be left alone with you assholes."

"Look," Shane ignored the older Dixon, "We found a gravel road on the other side of this field. It could lead to more supplies. If ya come with me, you can get first pick in whatever's there. Within reason," he added.

Daryl considered it for a moment. They had been cooped up in the car for hours, and he was itching to get away from his brother for a while. And with the promise of first pick in fresh supplies, the opportunity was sorely tempting.

"Alright," he grabbed his crossbow from the bed of his truck, "But let's make this quick." He followed Shane to the road, and he heard Merle call after them.

"Don't come cryin ta me when ya get bit, Darylina!"

* * *

_**27 days earlier...**_

"... and that's how you make a snare," Charlie finished. We had been at his cabin for days now, and Mark and I were still trying to cope with the fact that the world had ended. Well, possibly ended.

Charlie, the man who had rescued us after the accident, brought us up to speed on what we had missed during our 'vacation'. Apparently, some kind of plague broke out in Atlanta, and possibly the rest of the world. Everyone was told to evacuate their homes and find shelter in the city or something. But the city was overrun, and Charlie and Martha, his wife, took shelter in their hunting cabin.

Not only was Charlie a hunter, but also a war veteran. He had enough medical knowledge from his army training that he was able to fashion a makeshift splint for my foot. I just couldn't move. At all. So I had taken up the duty of sharpening knives, cutting vegetables, and learning how to make snares to catch some food. Needless to say, I was getting stir crazy.

"So when can I get back on my feet again?" I asked for the umpteenth time.

"Charlie says you should wait at least a few weeks," Martha replied sweetly, "I know it's hard, but we don't have the proper medical supplies for a speedy recovery."

"Still got nothing on the radio," Mark said, "All I heard was the same transmission that Fort Benning was safe."

Fort Benning. I know they all wanted to get there, but I was holding them back. Our car was obviously totaled, and Charlie's car was shot to hell. He said it broke down o their way here, and they had to hike the rest of the way to the cabin. He was a war veteran and a hell of a shot, but he didn't know enough about cars to get his own started.

"Well it's not an option," Martha said a little too quickly, "We've survived here this long, we'll be fine."

"We're running outta water," Charlie retorted, "The generator's run outta fuel, and it hasn't rained all that much so tha tarps are starting to run dry too. If we could get back down to tha highway we could find another car, we could drive to Fort Benning."

"We'll make do _here_," Martha ended the conversation.

It disturbed me a little that Mark hadn't been the one to figure out a new plan. He never once said that For Benning was out of the picture. At the time, I just figured it was because he didn't want to upset our hosts/saviors.

Over the next couple of weeks, I had perfected my snares. Some of them were even catching rabbits and squirrels. Our supplies of canned food started to dwindle drastically, but Martha had a small garden right next to the house with some tomatoes and peas.

The main concern was water. The pumps for the water were powered by the generators, and we had no fuel left. There wasn't a creek or anything within a safe distance. Our tarps we used to catch the rain still had a fair amount of water in them, but they would run out soon if it didn't rain.

Every now and then I would catch Charlie and Mark, or Charlie and Martha, or even Martha and Mark, having hushed, but heated discussions at the other end of the cabin, out of my hearing range. At the bottom of my heart I knew what they were discussing, but something just wouldn't let me believe it.

"What's wrong?" I finally asked Mark. He had another debate with Martha and they both looked angry.

"Nothing," He didn't even look at me. He just brushed his hair back and sighed.

"You keep getting in tiffs with Charlie and Martha. Don't think I haven't noticed."

"We're not getting into tiffs," He snapped, "don't worry about it." He hastily stood up from the end of the couch we were sitting on and walked out of the cabin without another word to me.

A couple more weeks later, it still hadn't rained. The water in our tarps was at a dangerously low level. Charlie had seen some 'walkers' on his hunting trips, and was blaming them for the lack of game he was bringing back. Everyone was on edge.

Again, I saw the three of them arguing. Whatever it was they were arguing about, Martha looked defeated. She stormed off, and I could swear I heard her whisper something along the lines of "having no part in it".

That night, we had a meager helping of rabbit stew and some applesauce. Everyone was quiet, and it made me uncomfortable. I knew something was up, but I just couldn't figure out what it was.

"This stew is pretty good, Martha," I tried to lighten the mood. She just nodded her head in thanks, and I thought I saw a tear in her eye. Something was definitely not right. "Is everything okay?"

"Everythin' is just fine," Charlie replied, a little harshly, "Jus' concerned about the water supply is all." He gave Martha a hard look, as if he were reprimanding her.

I just nodded and continued my meal. As I ate the applesauce, I realized it tasted far too sweet. There was something familiar about it, like something from my childhood, but I couldn't place it.

I don't remember if I finished my meal or not. All I remember is the groggy feeling when I woke up on the couch. "Mark?" I called out, my voice still thick with sleep.

There was no answer. I looked around the cabin, but there was no one to be found. Maybe they were outside? When I looked out the window, I didn't see Martha at her garden, or Charlie skinning whatever he had caught that day.

My eyes finally fell on some cans, a flashlight, a rabbit, and a squirrel, Charlie's favorite aluminum baseball bat, and a small pistol by the couch. There was also a note next to and I recognized Mark's handwriting.

_I'm so sorry, but we had no choice. We'll come back for you. -Mark_

Then I realized why the sweet taste in the applesauce was so familiar. Cough syrup. They knocked me out so they could leave me. They knew they couldn't stay here, but I was in no position to walk back to the highway yet. So they decided to leave me behind. I started to hyperventilate, and it felt like the walls of the cabin were closing in. The tears started and there was no way I could stop them.

It was the end of the world, and I was alone.

* * *

_**Present day...**_

Shane and Daryl walked in the grass along the road in order to be as silent as possible. They hardly said a word to each other. Daryl managed to shoot a couple of squirrels along the way, and Shane kept an eye out for any walkers that managed to make their way this far into the woods.

"I think it's time we turn back," Shane resigned. They had been walking the road for a good 45 minutes, and still hadn't found anything. He didn't think this road led to anything useful.

"I didn't come on this trip for nothin," Daryl continued forward. Shane sighed and followed after him. After another ten minutes, they both saw it: a cabin.

"Think it's worth takin a look at?" Shane asked, but Daryl's attention was elsewhere. He was bent down low to the ground, but Shane couldn't see what had caught his attention.

"It's a snare," Daryl anticipated his question, "And the bait seems pretty fresh."

"You think there's someone in there?" Shane reached for his gun. While walkers were his main concern, it was other survivors he feared most. It was the end of the world after all, and that made people unpredictable and dangerous. They quietly moved closer to the cabin. Daryl put out his hand to stop Shane.

"Ya hear that?" he nodded toward the cabin. Shane strained to hear what it was. He inched closer, and he finally heard it. Crying. "Someone is definitely in there," Daryl whispered.

"Should we knock? They might need help," Shane put his gun back in its holster, but he kept a hand on it.

"It's yer call," Daryl whispered back. Shane thought for a moment. Whoever was inside sounded like they were in need of some assistance. And he was, after all, a cop. But he had no idea what he was walking into. They could shoot him on sight. He moved to the window to try to get a look inside. He leaned up just enough to see in. He could see a fireplace and a table, and it looked lived in. His eyes landed on a couch, and sitting on the couch was a woman. She was crying, and holding something in her lap, but he couldn't see it. Her foot was also heavily bandaged.

"There's a woman in there, don't see anyone else," Shane said. "I think she's alone."

"Well," Daryl sighed and stood up, "Might as well say hello."

Shane quietly walked back to the front door and knocked.

* * *

It was the 42nd day of my time in the cabin. I pulled out my compact from my bag- they were kind of to leave my things behind without rooting through them. I looked at myself for the first time in a long while. Any of the baby fat I had in my face was gone. My auburn curls were now a matted mess, and I didn't think there was any hope of brushing it out. The dark circles under my eyes had become very prominent from the lack of sleep. Not to mention my eyes themselves looked a little sunk in, as did my cheeks. The curves that I had before all this happened had diminished into arcs and angles. I barely recognized myself.

I slammed the compact shut and threw it back in my bag. I didn't bother to check my snares. I knew there was no water in the tarp. Any hope that I had that Mark would come back for me faded away completely by now. The three of them were probably dead, and I didn't give a rat's ass.

I held the gun in my lap. I was so far gone, so beyond hoping, that I could actually do it this time. I'd scratched my final mark in the table. At least if someone stumbled upon this place, they would know how long I lasted.

I stared down at the gun, and the tears started. It just wasn't fair. Why did they leave me? Why did Mark leave me? Why didn't Mark just stay while the others went for help? We hadn't been together all that long, but we were all each other had.

I raised the gun to my temple. It shouldn't have to be like this, but it was, and I accepted it. I just didn't want to be alone anymore.

There was a knock on the door. I froze. It couldn't be happening. I was just imagining things. But then, I heard him from outside the cabin.

"Hello?"

* * *

YAYY! The first chapter! Most of it was background info, but we'll be getting into character interactions next chapter! Let me know what you think!


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** I don't own any characters form The Walking Dead. And thanks for the reviews so far! It keeps me going!

**Chapter 2: New Morning**

"Hello?" the voice called again, "Are you okay?" Shit. He heard me. Whoever this guy was knew I was in here, and probably wasn't going to leave anytime soon. How was I supposed to know that he was alone? What if there were others waiting to kill me and take the cabin? I only had nine bullets, and I wasn't that good of a shot.

"Who are you?"I called out shakily. Not that it really mattered who this guy was since he was probably going to kill me, but it was the only thing I could think to say.

"I'm Deputy Shane Walsh," he replied, "And my...uh... companion here is Daryl Dixon." So he wasn't alone. I might be able to take out two men, if I had the element of surprise on my side. But I still didn't want to risk it.

"What do you want?" I sounded more confident this time.

"We were out scouting the area and found your cabin. Are you alone?" Yes. I was alone. In fact, I was abandoned. But I didn't see why these people needed to know that.

"No," I lied, "My friends are out hunting. They'll be back soon."

"I heard you crying," This guy would just not let up, "Are you okay? If you're hurt we can help. We've got a group of people back down the road a ways, with medical supplies."

More people? That was something I was lacking in my life. That and more medical supplies. If there really was a group of people, that meant they had to have more food. And water. Maybe these guys were trustworthy after all...

But if I did let them in, there's still a chance they could kill me. Or worse... Still, I was gonna do it myself anyways, so what did I have to lose?

"I'm gonna open the door," I hopped off the couch, and limped towards the door. I made sure the safety on my pistol was off. I hesitated, checking that the chain lock was in place. I turned the door knob slowly, and opened the door as far as the chain would let me.

There were indeed only two men outside. Two men that I could see, at least. I assumed the one with the short, dark hair was the cop. He was definitely built like one. He was a few inches taller than me, and he was dressed in a black t-shirt and jeans. The other stood right behind him, holding a crossbow at the ready. He was wearing a plaid shirt, but the sleeves were cut off. There were also two squirrels hanging from his hip. His dirty blonde hair was unkempt, and his blue eyes were alert and watchful.

"Just put your weapons on the ground, first," I knew there was no way I would be sure they would actually relieve themselves of all their weapons; I wasn't even sure if they were actually alone. But I didn't have a lot to lose, and it was making me feel a little more brave.

The dark haired one, Shane, I assumed, looked back to the other an nodded. "Alright, we will," He pulled his gun out of his holster and slowly put it on the ground right by the door, along with some kind of a knife. The other followed suit, laying down his crossbow next to the pistol.

I undid the lock and opened the door slowly, all while aiming my own gun at the pair of men. They both raised their hands above their heads, and looked at me expectantly. "You can come in, but if you try anything, I will shoot you."

Daryl had to fight to hold back his eye roll. He knew that this girl didn't have it in her to actually shoot anyone. He followed Shane through the door, keeping his hands in the air. He understood why she was being so cautious. Two random strangers showing up at your cabin in the middle of bumfuck nowhere in the middle of the apocalypse was suspicious.

"So what do you want?" she asked again, "I don't exactly have anything to spare." The girl was a good 6 or 7 inches shorter than Daryl. She had pulled her hair up into a messy bun, but it looked as though it hadn't been brushed in quite some time. Her t-shirt hung loosely off her body, and her collarbones were clearly visible. She probably hadn't had much too eat in a while. She was trying her best to seem brave, but Daryl could see the fear in her eyes.

"What happened to yer foot?" Daryl asked.

"You didn't answer my question," she snapped.

"Look," Shane intervened, "We're not a threat. We were just passin by, thought we could lend a hand if you needed it."

"Well, thanks, but I'm just fine," She replied firmly. Daryl looked around the cabin. It was just two rooms; a living space and a bedroom. He assumed there was an outhouse behind the cabin. The door into the bedroom was left open. The bed seemed like it hadn't been touched for a while. And there weren't any dishes in the sink other than a cup. He was standing next to a table that was all marked up. He looked closer and recognized that the scratches were actually tally marks. Daryl started counting, but a piece of paper was blocking some of the marks...no, not just a piece of paper. It was a note:

_I'm so sorry, but we had no choice. We'll come back for you. -Mark_

"I saw the snares outside." Daryl said, daring to lower his arms, "Did one uh yer friends set em up?"

"Y-yeah," She lowered the pistol a bit, but her eyes were still wild with fear.

"Do they got a limp too?"

"What? No," She said quickly, "They wouldn't be out hunting if they were."

"Saw the tracks leading to and from the snares,"Daryl explained, "Whoever set em up has a limp. Ain't that tall and don't weight too much neither."

"What're you trying to say?" She raised the pistol back to it's original position.

"Yer pretty good at making em is all." Daryl also raised his hands again, but still letting her know that he knew something was up. Shane seemed to catch on as well.

"The place seems kind of empty for having more'n one person staying here," he stated, eying her gun.

"It is the end of the world," she retorted, "we only took what we needed with us. Don't really see the need for anything else."

"Who's Mark?" Daryl asked, hoping the question wouldn't set her off. He knew she was alone here, but he wanted to know the full story.

She cursed under her breath and finally lowered her gun to her side. "Look, I don't exactly trust you," she started, "for all I know, you could have more men out there, waiting to kill me or something and take the cabin for yourselves."

"We don't," Shane reassured her, "We don't really have anyway of proving that to ya, but I can give you my word as an officer of the law; it's just the two of us."

"No offense, but I don't think the law really matters anymore."

"Fair point," Shane gave her a crooked smile, "Can you at least tell us your name?"

She hesitated, looking from one man to the other. The fear in her eyes had changed to a look of caution. Daryl wished they could just prove they weren't a threat so they could just move on from this place. But at the same time, he was curious as to how she ended up here alone. "Diana Spencer," she sighed, giving up.

I don't know why I decided to tell them my name. I still had no proof that I could trust these men, other than the fact that they hadn't killed me yet. But I guess in times like these, that was more than enough reason.

"Shane Walsh," The dark haired man extended his hand, and I shook it, "This is Daryl Dixon." I just nodded at the other. He didn't offer his hand and I didn't offer mine. He was slightly more intimidating. "So you're alone here?"

"Yes," I sighed. I really didn't have anything to lose now, and I was beginning to trust them. Well, I realized that they didn't want me dead. Also, I was extremely starved for human interaction, "I've been here for a month and eleven days."

"You've been out here that long alone, and yer still alive?" Daryl sounded very surprised.

"Not exactly," I narrowed my eyes. He didn't know me. I could've been the female equivalent to Bear Grylls for all he knew. Jerk. "I've been on my own for eleven days..." Wow, I really didn't wanna talk about this with complete strangers.

"Were they...?" Shane didn't finish his question, but I knew what he meant.

"Oh no, as far as I know, they're alive," I started getting angry. Maybe it would be nice to vent my frustrations, "They left me behind."

"Whut?" Daryl didn't seem to believe it.

"My boyfriend, Mark, and I were staying at his parents' cabin up in the mountains," I explained, my voice growing angrier, "We had no idea what was going on because we were cut off from society. We left the cabin early because..." I sighed, definitely not wanting to get into that part of the story with two random men I just met, "... because we just got sick of nature. On our way back, this guy just walked onto the road out of nowhere and Mark swerved, but we hit a tree, and my foot was broken in the crash. Mark went to see if the guy was alright, but the guy started to attack him..."

"A walker?" Shane asked.

"What?"

"Ya know, when they come back," he said as if I should've known.

"Yes, a walker. Anyways, this man comes out of the woods and blows the walker's," I stressed the word, "head off and so we took shelter here with him and his wife."

"Why did they leave you behind?" Daryl asked. I couldn't really read the look on his. He looked angry, but sympathetic. And he didn't really seem to be the sympathetic type.

"We were running out of water," I looked down at my feet. "There's a generator for the pump, but it ran out of fuel. Charlie, the guy who saved us, he set up a tarp to catch rain, but it hasn't rained for a long time. I couldn't walk at all. My foot's broken pretty badly and this splint isn't enough for it to heal right."

"So they left ya 'cause yer foot is broken?"

"No one had a car. They wanted to get to Fort Benning, but they wanted to find a car. So they would've had to hike back down to the road, then walk it until they found a car. At the time, I couldn't even get off that couch."

"You just let them go?" Shane asked.

"They drugged me with cough syrup in my applesauce," I felt tears coming on, so I blinked hard to keep them from spilling over, "I woke up alone." It was silent for moment. None of us knew what to say next. I still didn't know what they wanted. I didn't have anything to spare. I had some rabbit jerky left, a can of sliced pears, and some cord left to make snares. I wasn't willing to part with it.

"Our group is heading up to quarry," Shane offered, "It's a couple of hours from here. You can catch a ride with us if ya want." I couldn't believe what he said. Not even an hour ago, I was content with death, opting out. But now I was given a second chance. It was too good to be true.

"Really?" I looked up at the cop, waiting for the catch.

"Yeah, we got a Winnebago," he replied, "We've got room to spare. As long as ya don't cause problems for the group, we're cool."

"Um, okay," I replied, still in shock. Maybe things would be okay after all, "Thank you so much," I felt the tears start up again and I fought them back. I still didn't wan them to think I was weak. They knew I could fend for myself, and I wanted to keep it that way. I didn't want them regretting their decision to let me join their group.

"I'm a cop after all," Shane smiled, "Can't just sit back and leave ya here exposed."

I smiled back at him, hoping he and Daryl wouldn't notice how watery my eyes were. I quickly hobbled over to the couch and went to pick up my backpack, but Daryl beat me to it. "I got this," he said, "Ya got anything else?"

"Um, just some jerky, and some canned fruit. And this bat." Daryl grabbed the jerky off the table and inspected it.

"You made this?" He asked in disbelief.

"Yeah, I watched Charlie do it a couple times," I answered, looking back down at my feet.

"'S not bad," He said thoughtfully. He stuffed that and the canned peaches in my back pack and slug it over his shoulder. I really hoped he hadn't seen any of my bras in the process. I picked up the bat, and put my pistol in the back of my shorts.

"Y'all ready?" Shane asked. He went back to the front door and picked up his pistol and knife. Daryl and I followed him, and he stopped to retrieve his crossbow.

"Yeah, let's go," I said, eager to have another chance.

The three of them had been walking in silence for a while. Their pace was slowed by Diana. They had found a large stick that she used as a crutch, but it didn't help with their speed all that much.

Daryl studied her from the corner of his eye. She seemed so small and fragile at first, but damn, she had to be tough to have lasted that long by herself, especially since she was injured. She was a quick learner too; the fact that she could make snares and jerky proved it. She also must know how to skin the animals too. He had to give her credit; she was resourceful and a lot more resilient than she looked.

"So what're your stories?" She broke the silence.

"We were on the highway, tryna get into the city," Shane started, "But it was backed up to hell. When they started bombing the city-"

"They what!?" She looked up at Shane with wide eyes.

"The army swooped in and bombed the place." Shane continued, "We formed our group, and decided we needed to get to this quarry. It's a good location, near freshwater..."

Daryl could see that Diana had stopped listening. She stared ahead, unfocused. He hoped to god that she wouldn't start crying again. She probably had people in the city, and this was probably the first she heard about the bombing.

"You said there was a pile outside the city?" She asked suddenly, seeming to snap out of whatever trance she was in.

"Yeah," Shane answered, "Everyone was told to get to Atlanta, that it was safe, but it got overrun."

"That's where they were headed," She said quietly, "Well, to the road anyways."

"It's dangerous for them to be that close to the city," Shane started, but she interrupted him.

"I don't actually care what happens to them," Diana said in an eerily calm voice, "They deserve what ever they have coming to them. Especially Mark."

Daryl made a mental note to not get on her shit list. They were silent again, and kept moving forward. He peered at her again. The bat was resting on her shoulder, and she had a firm grip on it, clearly still angry with her former companions (Not that he could blame her). He noticed the small, white lines on her hands. Scars. But they looked too old to be from the car accident. Daryl quickly looked away when she saw him observing her. Diana looked like she was about to say something, but he would never know what it was. She stopped dead in her tracks.

"Do you guys smell that?" Daryl sniffed the air. At first, he didn't smell anything, but then it hit him. The scent of death filled the air around them. The rustling in the bushes caught their attention. Daryl loaded his crossbow and waited for the walker to appear.

It stumbled out of the bushes about ten yards ahead of them, not noticing the trio at first. The former man was tall and bald. His jeans and shirt were tattered rags. A chunk of flesh was missing from his right shoulder, and the dried blood almost completely covered his arm. It turned, finally spotting the three survivors.

Diana stood her ground, holding the bat in front of her. She was focused; not panicky or anything. Daryl was not expecting this from the girl he had found crying in a cabin. He stepped forward, and took aim. "I got this son of a bitch," Daryl pulled the trigger, and took down the walker. He walked ahead to retrieve his bolt, Shane following close behind him.

Diana hung back a few steps, and let out a sigh of relief. She had been terrified the moment the walker appeared, but she hid it well. These people were giving her a chance, and she wanted make sure they wouldn't regret it.

She started to catch up to the two men, when she heard more movement from the bushes. Another walker stepped out between her and her new companions. This one was shorter, and looked more decayed. It's back was to Diana, so she couldn't see where he was bit.

Daryl turned when he heard the groans of another walker. It was headed for him and Shane. Luckily, he hadn't seen Diana yet. The arrow was stuck in the other creature's skull. There was no way he could get it out and load his bow in time. Shane seemed to be contemplating using his gun. The noise would definitely draw more walkers to the area, and they were close to the caravan now.

Just as he was about to pull out his knife, there was a flash of aluminum, and a loud crack as the bat came into contact with the thing's head. Once it was on the ground, Diana brought down the bat again and again, until it's dark grey brain matter oozed from the crack in it's skull.

"Jesus fucking Christ," Shane muttered. The two men were in shock that this small, half starved girl actually took out a walker. Diana was panting hard, and wiped the sweat off her brow.

"Uh... thanks," Daryl said, still amazed.

"No problem," She was breathless. She hadn't exerted this much energy in a long time, and she certainly didn't have that energy to begin with. Daryl made another mental note to make sure she got some food immediately when they got back. "You'll probably get to return the favor someday." She turned away from them, bending over to wipe the blood off her bat in the grass. Shane leaned backed a bit, clearly enjoying the view. That didn't sit right with Daryl, and he wasn't sure why.

"We should get moving," he stated. Diana stood back up, and grabbed her walking stick from the ground. Shane quickly averted his gaze, "Before more of 'em show up."

I was proud of myself. I had taken out my first walker. I was determined to show them that I wasn't weak, that I was an asset. I was already abandoned once, and I wasn't planning on being left behind ever again.

We walk the rest of the way in silence, not wanting to draw any attention to ourselves. After another twenty or so minutes of walking, I saw the caravan they'd been talking about. So they hadn't been lying after all. Suddenly, I felt nervous, like I was entering the high school cafeteria for the first time. What if the others didn't like me? What if they didn't want me around because I was just another mouth to feed?

As we got closer, I could see people milling about. There were even some kids running around, probably playing tag. The closer we got to their camp, the more insecure I felt. I remembered looking in my mirror back at the cabin. I was a mess. I hadn't bathed for almost a month, so I probably stank. My grey t shirt was spattered with that walker's blood, and I hoped that it just wasn't in my hair. Hell, I probably looked like a walker. What would these people think when they saw me?

When we reached the cars, I stopped. Shane walked forward, over to some woman with long brown hair who looked very happy to see him. Probably his wife. I stood back awkwardly as people were staring to notice me. Daryl stopped as well, turning back to me. Whatever he was about to say was cut off by a loud, but low whistle.

"Damn Daryl, we oughtta send ya out fer supplies more often," A big, burly man was walking towards us. His jeans were faded and he was wearing a dirty, white wife leather under a leather vest. His short hair was greying, and he had stubble to match. He had a grin on his face that I didn't trust. At all. "Especially if yer gonna bring back nice pieces of ass like this one," The man looked me up and down shamelessly,and I could feel my face get red. This wasn't exactly what the welcome I was expecting, "Hope that cop kept his word about you getting first pick."

"Shut the fuck up, Merle," Daryl muttered and dropped my backpack at my feet. He pushed past the man, Merle I guess. Merle followed behind him, saying something under his breath.

"Sorry about him," The woman Shane had been talking to walked up to me. Her hair fell a few inches below her shoulders, and she was taller than me. Her blue plaid, sleeveless shirt was tucked into her jeans. She sighed, "He and his brother aren't exactly the best of company."

"They're brothers?" I stared after the pair in disbelief. I had only known Merle for about 30 seconds, but I could tell he was a crude asshole. Daryl wasn't exactly Mr. Friendly either, but he seemed more calm and collected than his brother. But I could see a family resemblance, and it seemed that was all they had in common.

"Yeah," she said, "They are. If it were up to me, I wouldn't allow them to stay with the group. But they keep us all fed, so they've earned a place here. They're just too... rough."

"I'll keep that in mind," I said, only to appease her. I could see where she was coming from when it came to Merle, but not Daryl. I had only spent a little over an hour with the man, but I could just tell he was different from his brother.

"I'm Lori by the way," She said, "And that's my son, Carl, over there." She pointed over to the group of children, where a young boy who looked to be about 11 or 12 was playing with the others. "We don't have a lot of water for bathing, but we're heading for a quarry soon, and there's a lake close by. We're all gonna wash up there. But you can use this," Lori handed me a water bottle that was less than halfway full, "It's not much, but you can at least wash your face. We'll get more when we get to the lake. I can see if I can find some extra food too."

"Thank you so much," I said, "It'll be nice to brush my teeth again." I picked up my bag from the ground and she led me over to the RV.

"Don't worry yourself about it," She smiled, but the smile faded away, "Shane told me about how you were left behind." I looked down at my feet again. I didn't really want to talk about it anymore. I just wanted to move on. "I'm sorry," Lori said quickly, "I just... it must've been awful... and I-"

"It's okay," I said dismissively, "I'm just glad that I'm out of that cabin. I can start over now." We had arrived at the RV by then. A man wearing a bucket hat and a blue and yellow hawaiian print shirt walked up to them, holding a toolbox.

"I see we have a new group member," He reached out his freehand, "Dale Horvath."

"Diana Spencer," I shook his hand. Dale looked like a nice enough guy. He had to be in his fifties. His white beard and choice of clothing made him seem like a surfing Santa Claus.

"I was just taking her in to get washed up a bit," Lori said, "We still have a bit of a drive to the quarry."

"Well, if you need anything, give me a holler," He smiled at me, "Welcome to the group." He walked around to the front of the RV. Lori opened the door for me, and I headed inside. It was cramped, but cozy nonetheless. The was a small table and a kitchen directly in front of me, and past that I could see a bed. The bathroom was just between the two.

"There's some toothpaste by the sink," Lori pointed back by the bathroom, "We'll probably be leaving soon. We want to get to the quarry before dark."

"Okay, thanks." She just smiled and walked away. There wasn't a lot of light in the bathroom, and there was only a toilet and a small sink inside. I spotted a small tube of toothpaste and rejoiced. I had run out of toothpaste a while ago, so I was glad to get rid of the foul taste in my mouth.

I looked up in the small, square mirror that hung over the sink, and I groaned. I couldn't wait to bathe properly at this quarry. My hair was greasy and matted underneath. My face was dirty, and so were my fingernails. I found my washcloth in my backpack and wet it. Luckily, I still had some face wash from my vacation. I used it sparingly; I wanted it to last as long as possible. I had managed to get the dirt off my face, but I still was sporting dark circles under my eyes. I quickly brushed my teeth, and tried to get the dirt out from under my nails. There wasn't anything I could do about cleaning my hair until we got to this new campsite. I spent ten minutes trying to untangle it, but I gave up and pulled it back into a messy bun. I didn't have a lot of water left in the bottle, so I drank it. It wasn't cold, but it still relieved my dry throat. I would need to ask Lori if I could get some more, which made me nervous. I was still very thirsty, but these were hard times, and asking someone to share their water was like asking for a loan.

I quickly changed into a black v-neck shirt and hobbled out of the RV. Everyone had almost finished packing their things back into their respective cars. At the end of the line of cars, I heard arguing. I turned to Daryl having a heated discussion with Merle, but I couldn't make out what they were saying. Merle threw his hands in the air and got into the drivers side of a truck that I assumed was his. Daryl grabbed something from the truck bed, and was heading my way. I looked away, pretending to look for something in my backpack.

"Hey," Daryl called. I looked up from my backpack, pretending that I hadn't been watching him.

"Hey yourself," I replied. Daryl shifted uncomfortably, trying to think of something to say. He scratched the back of his neck, and held out a full water bottle and a power bar.

"Here," He looked from the items in his hand back to me. That's what Daryl and Merle were arguing about; giving me some water and food.

"Oh, I couldn't, you might need them," I said shyly. I wasn't accustomed to accepting gifts, especially from strangers. But my stomach betrayed me at that moment, and made it known just how hungry I was.

"You need it more 'n I do," He insisted, "Ya looked like you were gonna pass out after you took that walker."

"Are you sure you don't need it?" I stole a quick glance back at the car, where Merle was probably fuming. Daryl caught me looking though, and he followed my gaze.

"Don't worry bout 'im," he said, "He'll forget about it."

"Then thanks," I took the water bottle and power from him and put them in my backpack, "Thanks for... everything." I wasn't expecting anything else from him when we reached the rest of the survivors, so his generosity had caught me completely off guard. But I wanted him to know that I was grateful not just for the food and water, but for accepting me into this group. He nodded, seeming to get what I meant, and walked back to his truck.

I walked back to the RV, seeing Dale just entering the vehicle. He caught my eye and waved. "Need a ride?"

"You read my mind," I smiled, following him into the vehicle.

There were two blondes sitting at the table. They looked like they were sisters. The older stood up when I walked in and greeted. Her name was Andrea, and the other girl was indeed her sister, Amy.

The ride to the new campsite would take another hour. I was overwhelmed by the days events, and I didn't exactly want to relive my ordeal over again by telling my story. I asked Dale if it was okay if I took a nap on the bed in the back, and he was fine with it. I laid down on the bed, and I fell asleep soundly for the first time in a over a month.

* * *

Kind of a lame ending, but I felt the chapter was kind of dragging on. I'm going on vacation on Sunday, so I'm gonna try to at least get one more chapter up before then. And who knows, maybe I'll be able to update at the beach. Again, please please pleeeease review and let me know what you think so far!


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** Still don't own anything from the Walking Dead.

Sorry sorry sorry SORRYYYYYY for not updating sooner, but I have been on vacation with my family for the past few days. It's been hard to find time to write. And the hotel's wifi is shitty so it took me a few tries to get this uploaded. Buuuuut Askldjaklsjdkalsf I'm glad you guys like my story so far! Thanks for the reviews! This is my first real attempt at writing anything so I'm glad to know you guys are enjoying it!

**Chapter 3: My Back Pages**

I awoke with a start. I was going to be late for work. It would be my third time coming in late, and my boss would be pissed. He was going to fire me this time for sure. I reached for my alarm clock to check the time, but it wasn't there. In fact, I was in a strange bed, in a very tiny room.

Then I remembered everything that had happened, and I wished I had stayed asleep. But I realized the RV had stopped, which must mean we were at the quarry. Thinking I may as well make myself useful, I climbed from the bed. The sun was low in the sky, but it was still light out. As I stepped out of the RV, I held my hand in front of my eyes, giving them time to adjust.

The group seemed to be settling in to their tents. I saw a fire off to my right, and a table with some chairs where Lori, Carl, and some of the other kids were sitting. I couldn't hear what they were saying, but I got the impression that they had set up some kind of home schooling for the children. I shuddered at the memories the sight had brought back to the surface.

Everyone was bustling around the new camp, having some kind of chore to do. I felt guilty. I wished I had woken up sooner to help out. I still felt the need to let these people know that I wasn't just another mouth to feed.

"Hey, I was just about to wake you up," Andrea was walking over to me, followed closely by her sister.

"I wish you would've woken me up sooner," I said, "I could've helped out."

"You really needed to rest," she told me, "You slept the whole way here, even with Dale driving."

"Yeah, I guess you're right."

"Well, Amy and I were going down to the lake to wash up, if you wanted to come. Shane already scouted the area, and Dale said he would keep watch. Besides," Andrea pulled up her shirt al little to show me the pistol that was tucked into her jeans, "If anything tries to attack us, I can handle it." The thought of finally getting clean was too good to pass up, even with the threat of running into walkers. Or peeping toms.

"Oh I'm definitely in," I said excitedly, "Lord knows I could use a bath. I'm gonna grab my stuff from the RV. Do you have an extra towel I could borrow?"

"I'll ask around, then meet you back here?"

"Sure," I headed back into the RV and rummaged through my bag. I found my travel sized shampoo and conditioner, and I still had some body wash left. I stuffed my toiletries, a fresh pair of underwear, and a bra in a plastic bag I found in the kitchen, and found Andrea and Amy waiting for me outside.

"I got a beach towel for you," Amy handed it to me, "We were going to take a trip to the beach before all this happened."

"Thank you," I put it in the bag along with my other things, "I'll make sure to wash it." We could see the lake from camp, but it took about ten minutes to walk down there. Andrea and Amy did most of the talking. They were 12 years apart and had grown up in Florida. Amy was a year younger than me, 24, and was technically still in college. Andrea was a civil rights lawyer. The two sisters were taking a road trip before Amy had to go back to school, but they got stranded in Atlanta when things started going bad. Dale had picked them up off the side of the road.

"What about you?" Amy asked when we reached the lake, "What were you doing before the end of the world?"

"Nothing really," I hated talking about myself. I really didn't have an exciting life at all, and I used to dream about escaping it and moving out of the country. But since my boring and unfulfilling life was now replaced by one that consisted of just survival, I would do anything to get it back. And talking about my former life only made me more frustrated. "I'd just finished grad school. I was a bar tender and a waitress so I could pay off my loans. That's about it."

"What did you go to school for?" Andrea asked.

"Marine biology," I sighed, "Not that it's gonna help me now."

"I don't think anyone was prepared for this," Andrea set her stuff down on some rocks, and Amy and I followed suit. She looked around, hesitant to get in the water. "I feel weird just stripping out here."

"Me too," Amy agreed, "It's just... who knows who could be watching?"

"Well," I started, pulling my shirt over my head, "I for one, have not properly bathed in far too long. And I am not going to let anyone stop me from washing up." I took off my shorts and sneakers. Well, sneaker. I looked down at my splint, trying to figure out what to do about it. "I'm not sure if I should get this wet."

"Can you take it off?" Andrea asked, "How long have you had it on?"

"It's been on for about a month," I answered, "I guess I'll just put it back on afterwards." I slowly unwrapped the ace bandage. My foot was feeling a lot better than it did a month ago, but it was still healing and I didn't want to mess it up. I accidentally bumped it in the process, and that really hurt. "I guess I'll leave it on," I hissed, "I'll take a sponge bath."

Andrea and Amy finally got in the water, and I sat by the edge, using my washcloth to clean myself. Since I didn't have the cover of the water, I kept my bra and panties on, just in case anyone decided to get pervy on us.

"So," Amy's tone of voice told me that she was going to ask me an uncomfortable question, "Lori said you had a boyfriend?" Uncomfortable indeed.

"I did," I answered, moving my hair to hide my face. I focused on trying to get the grime from it. Andrea must have picked up on my change in mood.

"Look, Lori told us that he left you behind," She said softly, "That must've been awful."

"It was, but I'm glad Shane and Daryl found me when they did. I probably wouldn't have lasted much longer." I didn't really feel the need to tell them I was about to end it all myself.

"Yeah, Shane's alright I guess," Amy quickly wrapped herself in her towel, "But I don't trust Daryl. Or his brother."

"_Especially_ his brother," Andrea added, "I saw him getting high the other day. I just stumbled on him behind his truck, and he called me a nosey bitch."

"Yeah Merle seems like an asshole," I started changing into my other clothes quickly, "But Daryl seems okay. He did give me some of his water earlier. And a power bar. He's kind of nice actually." I added thoughtfully.

"Really?" Amy was clearly surprised, "He has a temper. And he never talks to anyone."

"Well then how would you know he has a temper?" I responded. I really liked Amy and Andrea; they had been nothing but kind to me since I joined the group. But it got on my nerves how judgmental they were being.

After a while, it started to get dark, so we finished up quickly and headed back to the camp. There was a low fire going just outside the RV, and almost everyone had gathered around it, helping themselves to whatever they had cooked up for dinner.

"'Bout time you three showed up," Shane said, "Just in time for the food." I looked down at Lori's plate. There were beans, and some kind of meat.

"Where did you guys get the meat?" Andrea asked, sitting next to Dale on the ground, and I took a seat beside her. Shane handed us all a plate, and we were given our rations for the night.

"Daryl," he said, though he didn't look that happy about it. I figured Shane and Daryl weren't on the best terms, "He shot a deer not too far from camp."

"Don't get used to it," I looked up to my right to see Daryl had joined us, "We're prolly scarin' em off." He sat down on a log, directly across from me. "I can probably get us some rabbit or squirrel."

"Eww," Carl scrunched up his nose, "That's gross."

"Don't knock it till you've tried it," I replied, "It's all I ate before I got here."

"What were you doing before you got here?" Carl mumbled through a mouthful of venison.

"She probably doesn't want to talk about it," Lori chided him, "Just eat your food."

"No, it's okay," I sighed, "I don't really want to tell it over and over again, so since you're all here, I might as well tell you."

Daryl wasn't listening to her story. He just couldn't focus. Besides, he already knew what had happened before she joined their group. Diana clearly didn't want to talk about it anyway. All he could think about was the sight of Diana in just her bra and underwear.

_Earlier..._

He honestly wasn't trying to spy on them while they were bathing. He had been out hunting for an hour or so, and managed to kill a small doe. It wasn't much, but it would have to do. He knew he was close by to the lake, so he decided to skin the doe there, since he would have the water to wash his hands and tools. As he got close, he could hear voices, but he kept going. He stopped dead in his tracks when the lake came into his view. There he saw Diana and those two blonde sisters washing up. Diana was sitting at the edge of the water; he figured she was trying to keep her splint dry. The other two were in the water up to their necks.

Daryl was frozen where he stood. He thanked whatever god was still around that they hadn't heard him coming. He was a couple of yards away in the trees, and he ducked behind one as quickly as he could with the deer on his back. He peered from his hiding spot to make sure they hadn't heard him. Their conversation was still going, and he let out a sigh of relief.

His gazed drifted towards Diana again. He knew he should just leave, but he couldn't help himself. Daryl could see her ribs were defined, and as she crouched, her vertebrae were also visible. He was glad he had caught the doe; she clearly need the food. She turned to reach for her shampoo or something, he couldn't tell what it was. Her collarbones were sticking out too. And her chest...

No, he had to leave. Now. Before he got caught, and they thought he was a pervert. He picked up the small doe and slung it over his shoulder. As he was trying to figure out the best route back to camp, he heard his name.

"...but I don't trust Daryl. Or his brother." It was one of the blondes, he didn't know which one. Now his feet were firmly planted to the ground. He had to hear where this conversation was going.

"Especially his brother," He thought the older one said that. She told the other two about how she caught Merle getting high the other day. After that incident, Daryl had to listen to his brother go on and on about how there was no privacy and how "bitches should mind their business an' focus on cookin' the food".

"Yeah Merle seems like an asshole," He listened more closely now that Diana was talking. He couldn't really blame her for thinking that; not after the way Merle had greeted her when she first met him. "But Daryl seems okay. He did give me some of his water earlier. And a power bar. He's kind of nice actually."

Daryl's chest puffed up a bit at her words. Although, he figured once she got to know him better, she probably wouldn't feel the same way. He had a knack for fucking up socially.

"Really? He has a temper. And he never talks to anyone."

Daryl scowled quietly. That girl didn't know him at all. Here he was, bringing back a meal for her, for all the camp, and that blonde bitch was putting him down.

"Well then how would you know he has a temper?" He could hear the sass in Diana's voice. Daryl couldn't hold back the small smile that was forming on his lips. But he decided that he should leave now. He was already pressing his luck by staying this long. He stalked off into the woods, looking for a different path back to the camp.

He watched Diana tell her story. He could tell that this was the last thing she wanted to talk about. He wished that they would just leave her alone and let her finish her food. Lord knows she needed to. In his humble opinion, everyone needed to just mind their own damn business and leave her be.

"...like I said," her words were finally registering in his mind, "I'm extremely grateful Shane and Daryl found me. I would've been dead soon if they hadn't." Diana looked up and locked eyes with him. Daryl didn't look away, but after seeing her down at the lake, he felt very uncomfortable with the direct eye contact. She gave him a small smile, and he nodded in return.

"These are troubled times indeed," Dale spoke, "We all need to stick together. We have strength in numbers."

"Yeah, try telling my ex that," Diana mumbled. Daryl still couldn't believe that he just up and left her. It was a stupid decision to walk the roads anyways. There were too many walkers. Her dumbass boyfriend probably got himself killed trying to find a car. Maybe it was a good thing that she got left behind after all.

"I see y'all started without me," Merle sat himself down beside Daryl, helping himself to the venison and beans, "None of ya got any manners?"

"I tried to find you, but you disappeared man," Shane answered, not bothering to look up from his plate, "That's on you." Merle grumbled something under his breath. He had been gone most of the day. He was probably getting high again. Daryl wished Merle would realize that getting high in the middle of the woods by himself was going to get him killed sooner or later.

"I miss my bed," one of the kids, Eliza muttered, "And the T.V."

"I know," her mother soothed, "Just try to think of this as a long camping trip."

"But we can't even make s'mores," the little girl whined.

"Well, we could tell some ghost stories," Carl offered.

"That's the last thing everyone needs to hear," Lori said.

"If y'all wanna hear a scary story," Merle laughed, "Why don'tcha ask Daryl about his chupacabra?"

Daryl shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Leave it to Merle to bring up something from his past to publicly humiliate his brother. A couple people chuckled, but most just looked confused.

"A what?" Glenn spoke for the group.

"A chupacabra," Morales repeated, "The word literally means 'goat sucker'. It's some kind of vampire, reptile hybrid monster, but it's just a myth. It's not real," he added with another laugh.

"It's not?" another kid, Sophia, asked, clearly frightened.

"I know what I saw," Daryl muttered, just loud enough to be heard.

"Well," Andrea joined the conversation, "What does the resident biologist think? Diana?" Everyone's eyes looked to her expectantly. Of course she was a biologist. Now she was really going to make him feel like a fool. Daryl wished Andrea had kept her fucking mouth shut.

"First of all," she started, "I'm not a biologist. I was studying to become one. Second, I studied mostly marine life."

"You'd still know more than us," Andrea said, "What is your expert opinion?"

"It's not really an expert opinion," Diana sighed, "But I've heard about the chupacabra before, and it seems to me that it's usually a case of mistaken identity, like...a dog with mange or something."

"See?" Morales assured Sophia, "It's not real." He had a smug look on his face. It was pissing Daryl off.

"But," Diana continued, "There's always mutations. There are animals born with extra legs, two heads, or one eye, stuff like that," she looked up at Daryl, "So maybe you ran into some kind of mutant coyote that has a penchant for goat blood." He held her gaze for a moment, and nodded. While it wasn't too reassuring, she had believed his story. Well, she believed he did see something, and she backed him up. Daryl certainly wasn't expecting that.

"Alright," Lori stood up, "I think that's enough talk about monsters and mutants, and it's time to wash up for bed," She ruffled Carl's hair. Everyone finished their meals, and went off to their tents, or to take first watch. Diana was helping Carol and Jaqui wash the dishes. Daryl waited until she was finished, and had said goodnight to the two other women.

"Hey," he called. She turned, and smiled. He wasn't really used to being smiled at by anyone, let alone a girl.

"What's up?" She slid her hands into her back pockets and looked up at him, waiting.

"I was jus'..." he started, but he soon realized he wasn't sure what to say. Daryl ran his hand through his hair, frustrated. He was never like this around girls before. But that was usually because he never cared about what they thought of him. So why did it matter what Diana thought? "Jus'... sorry bout my brother earlier. He was bein' jack ass."

"It's not your fault," she answered, shrugging. "It just wasn't exactly the welcome I expected."

They both stood in an awkward silence, neither knowing what to say or do next. Daryl couldn't help but wonder why he had apologized for his brother's actions. He had witnessed Merle cat calling other girls before, and those times he had said far worse things. But he just wanted Diana to know that he wasn't like Merle. And that confused him.

"Do you really think chupacabras are real?" He blurted out, without thinking. She smiled again, and took a moment to think about it.

"I don't know," she answered, "but I know you saw something. And the dead have come back to life for an all-you-can-eat long pig buffet, so I wouldn't rule it out." Again, Daryl found himself unable to hold back a small, crooked smile.

"I never met a girl who knew what long pig was."

"Well, it's not exactly a household phrase," God, she had a great smile. He was surprised that she still did smile, after everything she had been through. Anyone else who had been abandoned like that probably would've turned bitter and angry, but Diana was strong. "I'll see you tomorrow, Daryl."

As she walked away, he realized why he cared so much about her opinion of him; he respected her. She was a survivor, like he was. She had lasted a month in that cabin, and 11 days on her own. She taught herself to hunt as best she could with an injured foot, instead of just waiting for the end. He respected her for it, and he hoped in spite of himself that she returned the feeling.

When I awoke the next morning, I had now way of knowing what time it was. It still seemed way too early for it to be so hot. I had slept in Amy and Andrea's tent. It was pretty spacious, but the heat made me feel claustrophobic. I quietly looked through my bag and pulled on my shorts from yesterday. I was definitely going to need new clothes sometime soon.

I stepped out into the morning sun, and looked around camp. Everyone else was still asleep, so I assumed it was still pretty early. I walked over to the fire pit, and sat down. I had only camped once or twice when I was in Girl Scouts, and I wasn't overly fond of it then. I couldn't remember how to start a fire for breakfast. Wanting to make myself useful, I walked around camp, looking for some kind of chore to occupy my time.

"Hey," I jumped when I heard the voice behind me, "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."

"No, it's fine," I replied, "I just thought I was the only one up. Glenn, right?"

"Yeah," He was wearing a baseball cap over his short, black hair. He was about my age, maybe a year or two older.

"I was trying to start a fire, get breakfast going for everyone," I said, "But I couldn't find any matches or anything..."

"I've got some," he reached into his pocket and handed me a small box of matches.

"Thanks," I started gathering some small stick for tinder, "My camping skills aren't exactly up to par, so don't expect to see me rubbing to sticks together anytime soon."

"Don' worry sweetheart," Merle drawled from behind us, "If ya need something ta rub, I think I could help ya out," He laughed, walking off into the woods to do God knows what.

"He certainly is charming," Glenn muttered sarcastically.

"Yup, I'm sure the ladies just swoon whenever he enters a room," I lit a match and dropped it into the small pile of tinder. The fire caught quickly, and I threw some kindling on top of it. "I'm guessing we're having beans for breakfast?"

"Yeah," he replied, setting the cans down in front o me, "I'll probably have to make another supply run soon."

"You mean into the city?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. The city was overrun with walkers. I couldn't picture Glenn, who was almost as scrawny as me, fighting off walkers. "Who else goes with you?"

"No one, it's easier by myself," he answered. The fire was bigger now, and he poured the beans into a small pot. I put the grill over the fire, and started cooking them, "I only have to worry about myself and one person attracts a lot less attention."

"I could go with you," I offered. I knew it was practically suicide going into the city, but I didn't want Glenn to go alone either. Besides, I still wanted to prove myself. I had no intentions of being left behind ever again. If Glenn could do it, so could I.

"I don't think that's a good idea," he stated, "It's too risky for one person, let alone two."

"But if you had someone else with you, we could bring back double the amount of supplies," I retorted, "Two people still wouldn't draw too much attention. And we would have each other's backs."

"Well," Glenn sighed, "I won't have to go for a few more days anyway, so I'll think about it alright?"

"Alright." One by one, people emerged from their tents and helped themselves to a light breakfast of beans and water. I sat back, watching them, realizing for the first time just how alone I felt. Almost everyone had friends or family here, and I had no one. I wasn't overly social to begin with; I usually kept to myself as a child, and that shyness lasted throughout the majority of my teen years. But I had just started coming out of my shell when the outbreak began, and thus ended any chance of becoming more social.

I quickly pushed that thought out of my head. It was stupid and selfish to think like that now. So many people had died, and here I was, lamenting the loss of a potential social life. It no longer mattered who I was, and my past was now irrelevant. Who the hell would care about my college degree or past work experience or any other accomplishments I had achieved? The only thing that mattered now was surviving, and that revelation was strangely freeing to me.

**A/N:** And that's chapter 3, folks. Review to let me know what you think and I promise I will do my best to have the next chapter up sooner!


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** Nope, still don't own anything from The Walking Dead.

I AM SO SORRY I WAS GONE SO LONG. I was couch surfing so I could finish the last month of the summer camp I work at, and then there was some family stuff going on that kept me from writing. But I promise that I won't be gone this long again!

Alright, so **DancingNancy** brought up a very good point: A person with a very broken foot shouldn't be doing a supply run. I was totally _not_ thinking when I wrote that. Also, I forgot to edit the last chapter before I posted it because I was in such a rush to post it. So I've gone back and edited the chapter thoroughly. Sorry for any confusion and bad writing you have experienced!

**Chapter 4: Meet Me in the Morning**

Five days had passed since we first arrived at the quarry. Five long, hot, boring days. We all pulled our weight around camp and I quickly remembered why I quit Girl Scouts. Camping wasn't really my thing, but I was getting used to it. I usually woke up before everyone, and I always got breakfast going. I'd help with the dishes, laundry, and gathering wood for the fire. Sometimes, I would give short lessons to the kids about the wildlife, but the homeschool thing still brought back bad memories for me. Other than that, I normally spent my time alone. Amy and Andrea were always together, as were Lori and Carl and Shane. T-Dog and Jaqui paired off too. Jim and Dale were always busy fixing up the RV or something like that. I always felt like a third wheel. But I had Glenn, though we were both kind of awkward and our conversations didn't last that long. And then, there was Daryl.

It's not like we were best friends or anything. We just talked now and then- nothing deep or meaningful. It was mostly just me thanking him for essentially being the bread winner for the group. I seemed to be the only one who actually did. I mean, if it's the middle of the apocalypse and you're short on food, wouldn't you want to be on good terms with the one person who feeds you? Apparently, I was the only one who thought like that. Dale did too, at least.

That day Daryl had brought back a dozen squirrels, his largest haul yet. I had nothing else to do, so I hobbled over to his truck, where he had two buckets for skinning and cleaning the animals.

"Do you want some help with that?" I asked. He still had the squirrels slung over his shoulder, and he was holding a hunting knife.

"I got this," he answered, "Sides, can't have you messin' up the meat."

"I have an _idea_ of how to skin an animal," I retorted, "I'm just not that good at it. I was kind of forced to teach myself, after all," I muttered.

"Yeah, 'n I could tell," Daryl muttered as he sat down by the buckets, "Ya wanna learn the right way?" I nodded in reply. He handed me a knife that was significantly smaller than his, but it would still get the job done, "I ain't got the patience for repeating myself, so pay attention."

Daryl wasn't actually a bad teacher, and he did have some patience. He showed me where to cut, and how to make the cuts. It was kind of a long process, and not at all pleasant. But I was a quick learner, and by my third squirrel, I was able to completely skin the animal by myself, without having to ask any questions.

"If my mother saw me doing this, she would have a fit," I tried to make conversation. So far, Daryl had only opened his mouth to correct me or give me instructions. He looked up just as I applied too much pressure to a cut, and some blood squirted out onto my grey t-shirt. "I liked this shirt," I grumbled.

"This ain't work for city chicks," Daryl teased.

"I didn't live in the city."

"You act like it, you've always got perfect posture an' all," he said. Well, he was observant.

"I don't have perfect posture from living in a city," I felt the flush creep up into my face and neck, and I sighed, "I used to be in pageants."

"Alright then, princess," he smirked, "Jus' get back to work."

"Don't call me that."

"Why not? Ya are named after one," he pointed out. Not that he was the first person ever to do so.

"It's not like I wanted to be in pageants," I confided, "My mother made me." The memories were coming back again. Practicing routines into the night, my mother yelling when I messed up, or didn't win a title. And when I really pissed her off... I closed my eyes and focused on blocking out those memories. When I opened them again, Daryl seemed to notice that this topic wasn't an easy one for me.

"Well now yer a princess that can skin a squirrel," he said, throwing the fur into a bucket, "Why did ya wanna learn anyway?"

"It's all about survival now," I answered, "If I ever get separated from the group, or if I get left behind again, at least now I can take care of myself." I looked up from my squirrel to see Daryl giving me an odd look. I couldn't read his face. "What?"

"Nothin'," he answered, "Didn't figure ya were the independent type."

"I've been on my own since I was seventeen, thank you," I stated, "I am pretty capable of taking care of myself."

"Whatever ya say," I rolled my eyes and we both finished the work in silence. Daryl took the bucket of squirrel skins and guts and headed out into the woods to bury it. He didn't want the smell to attract walkers to our camp.

I wiped the blood from my hands with a towel that was hanging off the tailgate. I guess I could understand why the others weren't overly fond of him; he was intimidating and not the best conversationalist. And he didn't really seek out anyone else's company. Being Merle's brother didn't help him either. Also, he did have a temper. Even though he had all this working against him, I could see past it. It might just have been because he was a big part in keeping us fed, but after talking to him that day, I could tell that his bad reputation was a lie.

"Hey, Diana," Glenn was walking towards me, with a couple of duffle bags and a pen and paper in his hand, "I'm going into the city today, is there anything you need?"

"Um..," I could see that his list was already pretty long. I didn't want to burden him with anything more, especially since he was going alone. But on the other hand, I only had three t-shirts, one of which was now bloodstained, two pairs of shorts, and some impractical summer dresses. And god, I need underwear really bad, "I just need some new clothes. Nothing fancy, just t-shirts and shorts. And um, some bras and underwear would be nice."

"Sure, uh, no problem," Glenn looked back down at his list, blushing, which made my face flush as well.

"If it's too much, don't worry about it," I said, "I don't want my need for clothes to be the reason you get hurt...or worse. Just be careful."

"I got it," he reassured, "I've done this before." I nodded and thanked him. As I started to head back to change my shirt, Glenn stopped me, looking awkwardly at his feet, "I, uh... what...what size do you need?"

"Whatever you can find will be good," I answered, and continued on to the tent and a fresh shirt.

The sun was setting, and Glenn still hadn't returned from his supply run. The darker it got, the more I worried. He was out there alone, for us. I felt guilty, knowing that if anything happened to him it would partially be on me. I silently cursed my broken foot, wishing I could have gone with him.

"Don't worry," Andrea said kindly, "He'll be back."

"I know," I replied, sighing, "I just don't like that he went out by himself, especially since he's getting us all supplies." We were washing the dishes after our dinner of squirrel and beans (again).

"You know," Amy broke in, "I just noticed that only the women do the dishes. And the laundry."

"Yeah," I agreed, "It seems that the end of the world also meant the end of gender equality."

"Do you really expect Shane do help with the dishes?" Andrea asked.

"No, but it would be nice," I muttered. I was grateful to Shane; he had essentially rescued me form that cabin. But he seemed a little power hungry to me. He had made himself the leader of our band of survivors, and it came off as a little vain. While I respected him, I didn't really trust him. I couldn't put my finger on it, but there was something off about him.

"It would be," Andrea mused, "But there are other nice things about that man," she added with a smirk.

"Oh my god, Andrea!" Amy playfully smacked her arm, "I'll never get that image out of my head!"

"Hey, the world has ended," she defended herself, "If I have an itch, I'm gonna scratch it."

"I hate it to break it to you," I said, "But if Shane has an itch I'm pretty sure Lori is scratching the hell out of it." Shane and Lori had known each other before the outbreak, and now that her husband was dead, Lori and Shane were getting their kicks in where they could. I didn't really blame them though. The world was over, so why not?

"I thought so too," Andrea said with a pout, "Our choices are so limited now. It's not fair."

"There's always Jim. Or T-Dog, Glenn, if he comes back, or Dale," I suggested.

"What about you?" Amy asked me, "Who would be your number one choice?"

"Johnny Depp," I answered without hesitation, "I think the apocalypse have greatly improved my chances with him. Or, at least it has narrowed down his choices."

"No, I mean out of the guys here," Amy laughed.

"Wait, let me guess," Andrea pretended to think about it while she dried of another dish, "Glenn?"

"I don't know if he's my type," I answered, handing her another plate, "But I guess I can't be picky anymore."

"So Glenn it is," Amy smiled mischievously, "That's why you're so worried about him."

"No, I never said he would be my first choice!"

"Then who?" She looked up from the plate she was washing, and her eyes fell on a certain hunter, "Oh, Daryl?" she whispered.

"No!" I said quickly.

"You're the only one he talks to, other than Merle."

"Yeah, but that's only because I make the effort," I said, "But that doesn't mean I wanna sleep with every person I talk to!"

Amy and Andrea gave each other a knowing look. Well, it wasn't knowing because they didn't know what they were talking about. I was glad for the girl talk, even though it would normally have annoyed me. I wasn't one for gossip in my pre-apocalypse life. But after feeling lonely for the past couple of days, the conversation made me feel a little closer to Amy and Andrea, and I really needed that.

"When was the last time you did sleep with someone?" Amy asked. Okay, maybe now I was starting to enjoy this conversation a little less.

"Why does it matter?" Again, I felt the blush in my cheeks, and I tried to hide my face with my hair.

"If it makes you feel better," Amy started, "The last guy I slept with was in June. Kyle Roberts. He was a soccer player," she said dreamily.

"Nice," Andrea commented.

"Yeah, well, he wasn't all that good," Amy replied, "And not that large either."

"The last guy I was with was amazing," Andrea said, "I met him at a bar after work one night, and one thing led to another, and..."

"You had a one night stand?" Amy asked her sister in amazement.

"I've had more than one."

"You're such a slut."

"I can have sex with whomever I want, and however many times I want," Andrea said, "That doesn't make me a slut."

"Whatever," Amy rolled her eyes, "So we both came clean. What about you?" The dishes were done, so I had nothing to distract them with. This is why I never liked 'girl talk' in my previous life. It only ever left me feeling awkward and out of the loop.

"I...never actually...got around to it."

"Are you serious?" Amy asked incredulously. Andrea looked just as surprised.

"Religion?" Andrea said.

"God, no," I replied, "No, I just never... I don't know, I guess I never trusted anyone enough." I probably should've just lied and made up a fantastic sex life for myself. I don't know why I didn't. It would have been easier, especially after the looks they were giving me.

"But what about Mark?" said Amy, "Didn't you say you were dating him for like, a month?"

"I have a lot of trust issues, at least in that area of my life," I answered, "It's not like I was waiting for marriage or anything, and Mark knew that, but... I just wasn't ready. At least, not with Mark. But it's not like he didn't try," I muttered darkly. The two sisters were clearly concerned; it was written all over their faces. I still wasn't sure why I suddenly was so chatty about my sex life, or lack there of. Luckily, before they could ask anymore questions, we heard an engine not too far off, and I turned to see Glenn pulling up next to Shane's truck.

I smiled, extremely glad for the distraction, but more glad that Glenn was okay. By the time I had dragged my broken foot over to the car, a small crowd had gathered, and some supplies were given out. All of the canned goods he brought back along with any medical supplies were taken to the RV; those kinds of things belonged to the group. Anything else that was requested, things like gum, toothbrushes, hairbrushes, etc. were given to those who requested them. Once the crowd died down, I made my way over to him.

"Glad to see you're still alive," I said.

"Yeah, me too," he smiled and rummaged through the duffle bag at his feet, "I only went to the suburbs this time, so I wasn't able to get much," He stood up and handed me a plastic bag, "I can try to get more the next time I go into the city."

Inside the bag were three t-shirts, two tank tops, a pair of denim shorts, two bras, and some panties. "I don't think I've ever been more happy to receive second hand underwear."

"I grabbed it from the dressers, so they should be clean," said Glenn, "I don't know if I got the right sizes though."

"I'll still wash them, just to be sure," I smiled, "I'm just happy to have more than two shirts. Thank you so much, Glenn."

"No problem," he resumed handing out the rest of the supplies, and I headed back for the tent.

As I tucked my new clothes away into my backpack, the flap of the tent unzipped, and Andrea ducked inside. After the awkward end to our conversation earlier, I didn't really want to be in such a confined space with her. But she just went over to her duffle bag to put away her new belongings. Andrea and I were silent.

"Finally got some new shirts," I broke the silence. Andrea looked up at me, and it seemed like I had snapped her out of a trance.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"I said I got some more clothes," I repeated, "If you or Amy need to borrow them-"

"No no," she said quickly, "You should keep them. We both overpack everywhere we go." I could see her watching me out of the corner of my eye, with the same concerned look she had earlier.

"Is something wrong?" I asked.

"Nothing, everything's fine," she lied. I hoped that would be the end of it, but I had also hoped that I would be married to a number of celebrities by now, "Well, it's just what you said before was bothering me, you know, about Mark?"

"What about him?" I didn't look up from my bag. I was just rearranging things to distract myself from the direction this was going.

"Did he ever... hurt you?" I finally looked up at her. I knew that she was only worried about me, although there was nothing to worry about. Mark never physically hurt me, he was just a dick. And even if he had, it's wasn't like he was around anymore. When I didn't answer he right away, she continued, "What you said earlier, about how he tried to... well you know, and I saw the scars on your hands and I-"

"The scars aren't from Mark," I interrupted her. At her mention of them, I felt the heat rush up to my face. I definitely did not want to tell that story anytime soon. I quickly zipped my bag shut and stood up, "Mark never laid a hand on me. He just got too frisky when he drank. That's all I meant."

"I'm sorry," Andrea said softly, "Before I was a civil rights lawyer, I did a lot of work with battered women. I just assumed he hurt you, and I shouldn't have."

"It's alright," I sighed, "I'm just not usually so... open about myself."

"If you ever need anyone to talk you, I'm here," She gave me a small smile. I nodded, and exited the tent. As quickly as I could, I stomped over to the other side of camp, far away from Andrea, and sat under a tree. Despite her apology, I was still flustered. I wasn't mad at Andrea; she was just worried. The worry was misplaced, but I couldn't fault her for it. I was just upset that she had noticed my scars. I looked down at my hands, the white, angry marks were visible. I wished that I had a jacket, a hoodie, or something with sleeves. I should have asked Glenn to grab me one. I crossed my arms under my chest, making sure my hands were hidden.

"What's wrong princess?" I turned to see Daryl standing behind me.

"I told you not to call me that."

"Whatever you say," he sat himself down next to me "...princess," he muttered it just loud enough for me to hear. I couldn't stop myself from smiling. At least Daryl wasn't treating me like I was some poor, lost, little girl with no family left. "Ya cold or somethin'?"

"No." I said flatly.

"You look it."

"Well it's August," I answered, "I don't think I'll be cold anytime soon."

"Alrigh' then," We sat in an awkward silence for a moment. I wasn't really in a chatty mood, and as I said before, Daryl isn't much of a conversationalist. I was surprised when he spoke up first, "Ya just seemed pissed off."

"I'm not pissed off," I said, sighing, "I'm just... I don't like it when people pry, that's all."

"Yer life is yer own business. Tell 'em to fuck off," he offered. That might have been easy for him, but I knew that Andrea didn't mean any harm. I rolled my eyes.

"That's not very nice."

"Ya don't have ta be nice all the time."

"I'm not nice _all_ the time," I protested.

"Yeah ya are," he said, "Ya smile all the time, do everyone else's work, chat everyone up-"

"You're exaggerating," I interrupted him, "I do my fair share of work. And I don't chat with everyone. I've never had a conversation with Merle."

He snorted. "Would ya want to?"

"Alright," I smiled slightly, "You got me there." Again, we sat in a silence for a bit, but it wasn't awkward this time. Daryl seemed to understand that I wanted to keep certain parts of my life to myself. He dug his pack of cigarettes out of his back pocket, and placed one between his lips.

The glow from the lighter lit up his face for a brief moment, and I took the opportunity to study his features. He had the classic rugged look- a look that I was particularly fond of. His tanned skin showed the time he spent outdoors. He even had the stubble to complete the style. But it was his eyes that really caught my attention. The striking blue stood out, and though his eyes were relaxed, there was an alertness behind them that was a little intimidating.

I was so caught up in studying him that I didn't notice Daryl was watching me as well. He finally spoke up, snapping me out of my trance. "Whut?"

"Nothing," I answered quickly. I was extremely grateful for the darkness; Daryl couldn't see how flushed my face was. "Well," I stood up and turned to him, "thanks for the advice. I'm tired so I'll see you in the morning."

He grunted in response, and I took my leave. As I dragged my bum foot back to the tent, I felt his blue eyed stare following me the entire way.

* * *

Daryl woke to the sun shining brightly through his window. He pulled the sheet over his head, trying to drift back to sleep. But the realization that he wasn't alone. Daryl sat up quickly, and found a petite form with a mess of brown curls resting on the bed next to him.

Hesitantly, Daryl reached out and lightly touched her shoulder. She didn't move. He gently shook her awake. She rolled over, her sleepy brown eyes meeting his gaze.

"Hey," Diana said groggily. As she sat up, the sheet fell away, exposing her bare chest. Daryl tried to look anywhere but at her. He didn't know how this had happened. He couldn't remember how they had ended up in bed together, but he wish he had. She scooted closer to him and placed her chin on his shoulder. "What's wrong?"

He leaned back and looked down at her. God, she was gorgeous. As she looked up at him, he wondered how this had happened, but he soon realized he didn't care. Daryl decided to live in the moment, and he placed a soft kiss on her full lips.

Diana smiled slightly into the kiss, and as he started to pull away, she grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him back to her. She found his earlobe, and gently tugged on it with her teeth. His breath hitched in his throat, and he could feel himself beginning to harden. Her mouth moved from his ear to his jaw, and from his jaw to his neck, where she bit harder, leaving her marks behind.

And suddenly, she was on top of him, straddling his waist and pushing back onto the bed. It took him by surprise, but this was a surprise that Daryl thoroughly enjoyed. She continued her trail of kisses down to his chest. But Daryl wanted to be in control, so he sat up and grabbed her hips, flipping her onto her back, and eliciting a squeal in the process. He became more aggressive, attacking Diana's neck and leaving his own marks. His calloused fingers cupped her breast and she moaned, which only made his need for her grow faster.

"Daryl," she whispered, and just the sound of his name leaving her lips was enough to drive him crazy, "please..." It was all he needed to hear. He pushed her legs apart with his knee, and slowly entered her. This earned him another moan, and he had to fight to keep a steady pace. She was so warm and tight. He moved slowly, wanting to draw it out as long as he could. She whimpered with his movements, and the whimpers turned to moans as he picked up the pace.

He was so close now...

"Daryl, get yer lazy ass up!"

He bolted upright in his sleeping bag, panting. Merle came into focus, standing over him, muttering under his breath.

It was a dream. A very vivid dream.

He heard Merle chuckle, "I see you were havin' a nice dream." Daryl extracted himself from his sleeping bag, and saw what Merle was talking about. The dream had left him hard and in a desperate need to relieve his situation.

"Fuck," he sighed, digging through his bag in search of a shirt. Luckily it was still early and he couldn't hear anyone outside yet. He would be able to sneak off a safe distance into the woods to take care of himself.

"Who was tha dream about?" Merle asked. Daryl didn't respond, and quickly threw on a plaid sleeveless button up, "Was it one of those sisters? The older one's got herself a nice set of tits. Wish she had an ass to match..." Daryl reluctantly pulled on his jeans. He looked over to Merle, about to tell to keep his trap shut, but the smile on his brother's face was a little unnerving.

"Whut?" Daryl asked warily.

"It was that little brunette wa'n't it? That girl you an' tha cop found?" Merle laughed out loud when Daryl still didn't answer and suddenly became extremely invested in lacing up his boots, "She is a fine piece of ass, if I do say so maself. Ain't she a lil' young fer you?"

"Shut the fuck up," Daryl spat, and he exited the tent. As he thought, no one was awake yet, but he hurriedly stalked off into the woods, his brother's laughter following him.

It was just a dream, he told himself over and over. He had other sex dreams before, but this one was different. It was so real, and so... pleasant. But all it ever would be was just a dream, nothing more. And Merle was right; she was too young for him. Not that he was considering it at all. He had bigger things to worry about, like surviving. He didn't need some girl distracting him now. It was only a dream, and he tried his best to push it to the back of his mind.

**A/N:** Alright, I hope that made up for my unplanned and impromptu hiatus. Please review and let me know what you think so far!


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** I still don't own any characters, names, places, or anything from The Walking Dead, comic or show.

**Chapter 5: Ragged and Dirty**

"How is it that we get stuck with all the house work?" Andrea was annoyed. We were down by the lake, doing the camp's laundry. Again. While I didn't mind helping out where I could, the work did seem to be divided in a slightly chauvinist way. I had kept my opinions to myself, afraid to make anyone angry. But my chat with Daryl from a few nights ago had stuck with me, and I wanted to prove to him, and everyone else, that I wasn't just some quiet, nice, little girl.

"I know," I agreed, "I feel like we're stuck in the 50's."

"Well, someone has to do it," Lori sighed, wringing out a shirt, "And I know Rick couldn't even handle a washing machine. I don't even want to know how lost he'd be out here. Same goes for Shane."

"At least I drove ya down here," T-Dog defended himself from his spot by the jeep.

"It's still bullshit," Andrea muttered, "If something happens to them, we should know how to hunt to feed ourselves. And if anything happens to us, they should at _least _know how to wash their own clothes." She threw the now clean shorts into the bucket, trying to alleviate her frustration, "When things get back to normal I wonder if we'll still be allowed to vote."

"This isn't about women's rights," Lori argued, "It's about being realistic and doing what needs to be done." Andrea rolled her eyes, but said no more on the matter. I was too distracted by Andrea's words to offer my own opinion: _When things get back to normal..._

I absentmindedly scrubbed the shirt in my hands. Would the world ever be normal again? As far as I knew, it had been a little less than a month since Mark crashed the car, and there was no word from anyone- no police coming to save, no government broadcasts other than the same, looping emergency broadcasts. Nothing. Shane had said making camp at the quarry was smart; we were on high ground, making it easier to keep watch for danger, we had a good source for water, and we were close to city, where we could get supplies. And if the government showed up to clean up Atlanta, we would be nearby, and they would find us faster.

But we were still stuck in the woods, and I didn't think anyone would come to our rescue. If this outbreak was enough to take out the entirety of Atlanta, and then result in the bombing of said city, then it had to have spread at least nationwide. Someone would have come to help us by now if it had been contained to Atlanta. And as soon as whatever had caused the dead to come back to life, the government would come in and solve the problem, and we would just pick up the pieces, and try to move on.

But we had been on our own for more than a month, and it seemed like it was going to stay that way for a while.

"Hellooo," Amy waved a hand in front of my face, "You still with us?"

"Yeah sorry," I answered, grabbing another article of clothing to wash, "Just spaced out..."

"Well, I was saying," Amy continued, "maybe we could go fishing. Andrea and I learned from our dad, and we could teach you. I think Dale has some fishing gear-"

The bushes to our right rustled, and the five of us tensed. I had my gun back in my bag, completely useless to me now. If a walker made it's way here, we'd have to run for back to camp, and then we would risk it following us. I jumped up, getting ready to run if I had to, and hoped that Dale was indeed watching from his lookout spot atop the RV.

"Would ya look at tha'," Merle boomed as he emerged from the trees, "The womenfolk are happy ta see us return safely," Daryl followed behind him, both men hauling a large deer back up to camp. They dropped the deer by the lake, taking the time to catch their breath.

"I think we're more relieved that you aren't geeks," Andrea said, returning to the laundry, "Not to mention that you also brought back something other than squirrel."

Again, I went back to washing clothes, but this time, I was rushing. We hadn't had much variety in our diets lately. We mostly ate squirrel and whatever canned vegetables we had. The last time we had deer was the first night at camp, which was almost two weeks ago now. Not to mention that I could stand to put on a little more weight. My clothes weren't fitting properly, and I had to make new holes in my belt for it to be tight enough. Although I had gained a little of it back since I left the cabin, I was still far from my normal body weight since before the outbreak. The promise of a big dinner had my mouth watering and the laundry done quicker. We gathered up the detergents and freshly cleaned clothes, and started loading them back into the jeep.

"Oh my god," I heard Andrea shriek from behind me, "What the hell do you think you're doing, Dixon?!" I turned swiftly to see Merle standing on the edge of the lake, with his back to us, about to take a piss. As Andrea marched up to him, he turned his head back and smirked.

"Sweetheart, if ya wan' a show, we can take this back ta mah tent," He chuckled.

"Don't flatter yourself," She snapped, "We drink from this water, and we bathe with it. Got piss in the trees!"

"I don' take orders from anyone," Merle turned around to face her, and he was not pleased. I put down my box of laundry and went to back up Andrea, with T-Dog following close behind me, "especially from uppity bitches!"

"Knock it off Merle," Daryl stepped up and placed a hand on his brother's shoulder. Merle roughly pushed Daryl away, scowling.

"No," He roared, "Like I said, I don' take orders an' I ain't startin' now! We've been out all damn day to bring back food fer ya and this is tha thanks we get? It's about fuckin time people start appreciatin' tha work I do 'round here! If ya wanna keep eatin', yer gonna stay the hell outta my business!" Merle was right up in Andrea's face, but she stood her ground, "Not ta mention the walker I took out! Coulda easily let it go, but I risked mah life ta make sure it wouldn' get back ta camp! So if ya'll will excuse me, I'm gonna take a fuckin' piss!" He stomped back to the edge of the lake.

"I don't think it's a such a good idea!" I called, stopping him in his tracks. It was stupid, I know, but I didn't want him peeing in our only source of water. All eyes were on were on me as Merle wheeled around, glaring.

"And why the fuck not?" he asked, and all of his anger was directed at me now.

"Well, uh, there's this fish... actually it's more like a parasite, but it still has a spine so it's considered a fish-"

"Get to tha fuckin point!"

"It's called the vampire fish, and it's attracted to the scent of urine," I explained, "It's so small that it can actually swim up the stream of urine, and it'll attach itself to the inside of the penis. Painfully. And since going to the hospital's out of the question, well..." There was a stunned silence. I don't think anyone really knew what to say to that or if they should believe it. But it was the only thing I could think to say to save us from drinking Merle's piss.

"Yer lyin'..." Merle eyed me suspiciously, clearly unsure whether to believe me or not.

"If you don't believe me, fine," I stepped up to him, feeling a little more confident, "I mean, it would be hard to spot them, since they're translucent. I guess the only way to find out if they're in the lake is to piss and see what happens." Merle looked from me to the water and then back again. Finally, after a string of curses and deeming myself as a 'know it all bitch' under his breath, he marched off to the treeline, leaving our water urine free.

"So is there actually a fish that can, uh..." T-Dogg trailed off, absentmindedly adjusting his manhood.

"Candirus, or vampire fish," I started, "are part of the catfish family. But it's only found in South America, and there's a lot of controversy as to whether it actually can... well, you know. But I don't see why Merle needs to know that."

Andrea laughed, "I guess your marine biology degree _did_ come in handy after all." I smiled slightly, allowing myself to feel triumphant for a moment. I felt a little like Batman actually; I did just save our 'town's' water supply. Even Daryl was amused, and it made the triumph feel a little sweeter. But I quickly remembered what Merle had said in his tirade, and the victory was short-lived.

"Is what Merle said true?" I asked, and Daryl just looked at me, confused, "Did he kill a walker today?"

"Yeah," he replied, not bothering to sugar coat it.

"Was it close by?"

"About 2 miles out. It was the only one I've seen since we've been here. Didn't see any signs of others." We were silent as we absorbed this information. A walker had managed to find its way uncomfortably close to our camp. And if one could, others would be able to.

"Maybe it was someone who got infected in the city," Lori offered, "And they were camping around here before they turned..."

"Nah," Daryl countered, "Probably would've turned 'fore he got up here, and we didn't see a campsite or anythin'."

"There's no use in worrying about it now," T-Dog said, "Let's get the food back up to camp. I'm hungry."

Later that night, I couldn't sleep. From all the walking I had been doing, my foot was killing me. I knew that I should probably kept off of it, but I couldn't stand to just sit around while everyone else was working. I just hoped that I didn't do any extra damage. And the fact that Merle and Daryl had found a walker out in the woods was definitely unsettling. We had been safe here for two weeks, but I knew it was only a matter of time before more started showing up.

But the realization that there was no way out of this was the reason I couldn't sleep. Before, I had just assumed this was temporary. I thought that it would be like a natural disaster: It was tragic, people died, but eventually everything would go back to normal. The city would get cleaned up, and we would move on. But it had been way too long with no contact from the government. And I remembered when I first met Shane and Daryl; they said that Atlanta was destroyed by our own military. Clearly, we were on our own.

"Hey, Diana," Amy's whisper snapped me out of my thoughts, "Are you still awake?"

"Yeah," I whispered back.

"Me too."

"I could tell."

"Do you think we're safe here?" I couldn't see her face, but I could hear the small amount of fear in her voice, "I mean, if one of those things could get this far-"

"Nothing's happened to us so far," I tried to comfort her. I had only actually ever seen three walkers: The one from highway when we crashed, and the two from when Daryl, Shane and I were walking back to the camp. I had heard Charlie talk about seeing them around the cabin, but were still close to the city, and the road. Being cooped up in the cabin had shielded me from a lot of interaction with walkers, "We have lookouts at all times, and we're safer in a group."

"Yeah, I guess you're right.." she still didn't sound convinced.

"Besides, Daryl said he didn't see any signs of others hanging around. There's no use worrying about it."

"You would believe anything _he_ says."

"Um, what?"

"She thinks you have a thing for Daryl," Andrea spoke up suddenly, causing the two of us to jump in our sleeping bags, "And we're as safe here as we'll ever be. Now, please shut up so I can get some sleep."

"Alright, _mom_," Amy rolled over, facing away from me.

"And just so we're all clear," I said in a little more than a whisper, "I do _not_ have a _thing_ for Daryl. Or anyone else. Good night."

"Whatever you say."

I chose to ignore Amy's comment and closed my eyes. Still, sleep evaded me, the thought of a never ending camping trip keeping me up. Sighing, I turned to my side, and tried to focus on something else. Like how aggravated I was about how Amy though I had a crush on Daryl. Because I didn't. It is perfectly normal for two people of opposite sexes to have a platonic friendship, not that I had even known him well enough to consider him a friend. I had plenty of guy friends before the outbreak, and I certainly wasn't crushing on any of them.

Somewhere outside of the tent, I heard a twig snap. I became instantly alert, listening for any other disturbances, but there was nothing. And whoever was on lookout stayed silent, so I assumed it was nothing. But my heart was still beating frantically. As quietly as I could, I fished out my pistol from my bag, and placed it under my pillow.

Daryl trudged back into camp, with a rabbit and four squirrels slung over his shoulder. Deer were becoming few and far between these days. He figured the walkers had discovered the animals were another food source, and since there couldn't be too many people left in the city, more of them must be prowling the woods. After he and Merle stumbled upon a walker dining on a rabbit carcass, he knew it was only a matter of time before more would show up. Daryl had lied the day before when he said he didn't find other signs of walkers. Their tracks were obvious. Other than the one that Merle gleefully disposed of yesterday, he knew there were at least three others in the woods, competing with him for food and threatening the camp.

Daryl dropped the animals by his truck and retrieved his buckets from the tailgate. AS he prepped his tools to clean the animals, he looked around the camp. Diana had made a habit of helping him skin his catches, but he would never let on how grateful he was for it. Nor would he admit that he enjoyed her company. They never really said much which led to awkward silences, but it was nice having someone around, other than his brother. But she was nowhere to be found, so he resigned himself to taking on the task alone.

Just as he sat down to begin his work, a sharp scream sent him back on his feet. As he scrambled for his crossbow in the tailgate, he heard one of the kids yelling '_Mom!'. _He ran towards the shouts, nearly barreling into Morales.

"Who was that?" he asked Daryl, looking around franticly to see who was missing.

"One uh the kids," Daryl answered calmly, "Came from that way." He pointed in the opposite direction of the lake and ran. Shane and Glenn followed, both carrying bats. He heard Lori asking what was going on, where Carl was, etc. Before she got an answer, a shot rang out, followed shortly by two more. Daryl picked up the pace.

Daryl reached them first, and immediately had his crossbow at the ready. Carl, Eliza and Louis were hiding behind Jacqui, and the woman held out her arms to protect them. Carol was on her knees, clutching her daughter to her chest, the both of them sobbing. A walker was laying motionless on the ground. Her tattered dress was covered in already congealed blood from two shots to the chest. Her wisps of white hair did nothing to cover the bullet hole in her head.

"What happened?" Shane demanded as he lowered his gun.

"It came outta nowhere," Jacqui answered. It was clear the woman was still frazzled, "It almost got Carol, but Diana shot it."

Daryl wasn't sure if the girl even noticed that they were there. She slowly lowered the gun to her side, her eyes never left the body of the walker. He could tell she acting more calm than she really was; her face didn't betray any emotion, but her chest was heaving as the adrenaline wore off. The knuckles of her right hand were white from the intense grip she had on her pistol.

"I thought you said there weren't any other walkers around," She said dryly. Daryl just scoffed, and shouldered his bow.

"Those shots will draw more here," Lori scolded holding Carl to her side.

"I didn't have much of a choice."

"You've put the whole camp at risk," Lori went on, "There are ways to do this quietly. You didn't have to shoot it. Why do you have a gun anyway?"

"It's the middle of the damn apocalypse Lori," Diana spat, "Why _wouldn't_ I have one? There wasn't any time. The thing was on top of Carol in a second. I didn't have time to kill it _quietly_. If I didn't shoot it, Carol would be dead."

"I just don't feel comfortable with you having a gun," Lori said, looking at the ground, "You didn't even tell anyone you had it. I think you should give your gun to Shane, at least until you know how to use it. You could hurt someone or yourself."

"Well get used to it, because I'm keeping it," Diana turned on her heel, and starting marching back to camp. Lori looked to Shane to back her up, but he didn't say anything. Lori let go of Carl and stomped after her.

"No, we have to talk about this!" Lori stood her ground.

"Talk about what?!" Diana spun around to face the older woman, her curls flying behind her. Daryl was glad that he wasn't on the receiving end of the glare she was giving Lori, "You wanna talk about how I just saved Carol's life? The kids? _Your son's_? I get that it was dangerous, but like I said, I didn't have a choice!"

"Alright, calm down," Shane finally intervened, stepping between the two women, "Look, maybe Lori's right. If we find some more ammo, we can start gun training. It's probably safest if I hold on to it until you learn how to fire one properly."

"She's had it the whole time she's been here," Daryl pointed out, "Nothin's happened."

"She still has no idea how to use it! Or when!" Lori argued.

"I think she's got the gist of it," he retorted, "So yer gonna punish her fer saving someone's life?"

"That's not what I'm saying-" Lori began, but Morales thankfully cut her off.

"That's enough!" He shouted over the arguing, "There's nothing to be done about the gunshots now so there's no use arguing about it. Daryl has a point; she's had the gun this long and no one's gotten hurt. We might as well let her keep it. But if she-or anyone- is seen mishandling a weapon, they will turn it over to Shane immediately. Is that good with everyone?" Shane nodded, not wanting to upset the group who seemed in favor of Morales' compromise. Lori shook her head, but said nothing.

"Fine with me," Diana replied coldly. They started back up to the camp, the children still clinging to their parents. Daryl stayed at the back to make sure they wouldn't get another surprise attack. Diana also stayed behind, but mostly because her foot was slowing her down.

Her arms were crossed under her chest, and the offending pistol was tucked into the back of her jeans. The black tank top she was wearing had ridden up a little bit, exposing a small amount of olive skin. But it was enough to remind him of his dream from the other night. He felt guilty about it, but he couldn't help replaying the dream over and over in his mind. He remembered perfectly the sound of her sighing beneath him, the glazed look of lust in her eyes, how soft her skin felt... well at least how he _thought_ she felt. He pushed the thoughts to the back of his mind, as the feeling of guilt washed over him.

Once he reached his truck, he put his crossbow back in the tailgate and got back to work cleaning his kills. He was cutting into the rabbit when he noticed a shadow on the ground before him, blocking his view of the sun.

"Do you still want some help?" Diana asked, brushing the hair out of her face. It was clear that she was still pissed off; the last time he saw that look on her face was when he first met her at that cabin, "I just really want to cut someone... I mean something."

Daryl smirked and handed her the knife she always used. She took her usual place on the ground next to him, and grabbed a squirrel. They worked in silence, both caught up in their own thoughts.

"I shouldn't have blown up like that," Diana said quietly, breaking the silence. Clearly, cleaning the animals did help her alleviate some of her anger. She didn't look so furious anymore; just frustrated.

"Why not?"

"Because..." she started, throwing the fur into the bucket, "because now everyone probably thinks I'm crazy. Or dangerous. They probably don't want me around anymore." Her face had hardened; there was no trace her smile that he was so used to. She was trying to hide how worried she was, but she wasn't doing a good job.

"So?" he said, not wanting to sound _too_ interested. Daryl liked talking with Diana, even if their conversations were a little one sided and mostly about gutting animals. She didn't judge him, and she wasn't afraid of him. He wanted to keep her talking, just to keep her company for as long as he could.

"It's just..." she struggled, seemingly not sure if she could trust him. She sighed, and decided that she could continue, "Maybe Lori's right. What if the noise brings more walkers to the camp? If that happens and some got bit, It would be my fault and... I'm just afraid I'll get left behind again." The look in her brown eyes was full of fear, but only for a moment. She quickly put on a facade of resilience.

"They ain't gunna leave ya behind, they're not like that," he answered. He wanted to comfort Diana, to make sure that she knew that they wouldn't leave her behind... that he wouldn't let them. He didn't know why, but since the day he found her in that cabin, he felt responsible for her. "We ain't leavin' here anyways. 'Sides, ya think they'd leave ya and let Merle stay?"

"He is your brother, you know," a hint of her smile crept back onto her face, "But I guess you have a point." Her face had softened some, and she began to relax. Maybe she just needed to hear it from someone else. They lapsed back into silence, and continued their work. Daryl watched her out of the corner of his eye as she sliced into the last squirrel. Her small hands were lightly covered in the animal's blood. It wasn't right to him. Her hands weren't meant for this kind of work. She wasn't meant to live like this. She was supposed to be living in a nice place, like an apartment or something, in the city, with lots of friends... the perfect boyfriend. That made Daryl cringe a bit. But she was here, living a tent with next to nothing, voluntarily skinning squirrels with him. Diana was adaptable, which meant she was strong. And was a trait that Daryl respected and admired, and didn't see all too often in the girls he'd been with.

Once she was finished, Diana dropped the fur into the bucket and wiped the blood form her hands. She got rid of most of it, but some lingered on her hands, as if to stand as a reminder of what the world had become. Daryl wiped off his own hands, and was about to take the fur and entrails into the woods when she stopped him.

"Thanks for backing me up earlier," She handed the knife back to him and gave him a small smile. It was the first time Daryl could remember anyone thanking him for something. Merle obviously wasn't one to show his gratitude, or even recognize that he went out of his way to help his brother. His father was the same way. He wasn't sure what to say, so he just nodded and pocketed the knife. Daryl grabbed the bucket of squirrel rabbit remains as he got up from his spot on the ground. Diana went to follow him, but as she stood, she winced.

"Yer foot?" he guessed.

"Um, yeah," Diana sighed, "I think I've been walking on it too much."

"Keep it elevated above yer head for a bit," He offered, and headed for the woods.

"Daryl," she called, and he turned to face her. Her arms were crossed again, and her eyebrows were knitted together with worry, "Just be careful out there, okay?"

Again, he just nodded his reply, and continued his course. He wanted to take the smell of the dead animal further since a walker had appeared on their doorstep. And he wanted the time to think... or rather, he wanted to clear his head of a certain girl with a foot injury.

Dinner that night was awkward. The tension from the afternoon was still heavy in the air between Lori and I. I caught her shaking her head in my direction a few times, and it took every fiber of my being to not go off on her. Luckily for me, or maybe it was more fortunate for Lori, Andrea offered to take my place washing dishes claiming that I needed to rest my foot. But I knew that she was trying to prevent me from blowing up on Lori. Even though I had calmed down since putting down the walker, I was still upset and restless. Lori had called me out in front of the group and treated me like a child. It was embarrassing. Part of me knew that Lori was right; I shouldn't have fired my gun. The noise was sure to draw more walkers to the area, and since I'm not that good of a shot, I wasted two bullets before finally planting one in it's head. If I wasn't a good shot I probably wasn't worth much to these people, and if a situation ever arose that led to splitting up the group, I could get left behind. Now, I knew that it was a stretch, but being left behind by the only person I had left in this new, terrifying world was kind of traumatizing and hard to get over. I even had dreams about being abandoned all over again. The other part of me, however, knew that these were good people, and I shouldn't worry about it. It was like Daryl had said earlier; they wouldn't just up and leave me, not like Mark.

I was laying down on one of the car seats, and following Daryl's advice by propping my foot on the top of the seat. It helped with the pain a little, but it still hurt. It was dark out, and Daryl still hadn't returned. He missed dinner, which didn't seem to bother Merle; he had passed out in his tent as soon as he finished eating. I kept looking back to his truck, but there was no sign of him. As much as I didn't want to admit it, I was starting to worry about him.

I wouldn't really consider us friends. I think we just had a mutual will to survive, and we both respected each other for it. And I wasn't about to alienate the man who kept us fed. Not to mention the fact that I felt indebted to him, since he had gotten me out of that cabin. Well, he _and_ Shane did, but Shane came across as kind of a dick.

It didn't seem like anyone else had even noticed he was gone. Even though Daryl came off as kind of a jerk sometimes, it still bothered me how judgmental everyone was. Sighing, I swung my leg down from the seat and sat up. I didn't really want to be the one to tell Merle that his brother had disappeared, so I decided Dale would be the best choice. But before I could even stand up, a small plastic bag with three pills in it was dropped in my lap. I looked behind me to see Daryl holding a water bottle in front of my face.

"That took you a while," I muttered, trying to hide my relief at his reappearance.

"Took a walk for a bit," he sat down on the seat next to me, "Wanted to make sure there weren't any other walkers around."

"So are these painkillers or something?" I asked, inspecting the bag.

Daryl nodded, "They're the good stuff. They'll knock you out for a good while, so only take one a night."

"I can't take these," I said, "What if you need them? Where'd you get them anyway?"

"Don't matter, you need 'em more n' I do... or Merle." he mumbled that last part. While no one really talked about it too much, it was common knowledge that Merle was a drug addict. These pills were obviously from his stash, and if Merle found out Daryl took them... it wouldn't end well. As if he knew what I was thinking, Daryl continued, "He ain't gonna notice. His stash is runnin' out anyhow."

That surprised me, to say the least. Daryl wasn't one to be so open about himself, or Merle. Both Dixons usually kept to themselves. I never expected him to be so candid about Merle's drug addiction. But I still didn't feel right accepting them; Merle would be pissed and I didn't feel right about taking someone's medical supplies, even if Merle would only use them to get high. I started to protest, "I don't think I should-"

"Jus' take 'em," I looked up, meeting his eyes. It wasn't a suggestion. He held out the water bottle, and I took it. Feeling sheepish and kind of like a freeloader, I rose up slowly. I hissed as I set my bad foot on the ground, a fresh wave of stabbing pain shooting up to my knee. Daryl stood up quickly, placing his hand on my arm to steady me. He quickly pulled his hand away, as if he realized his reputation of being a hard ass was at stake for this one gesture. But it was enough to send the blood rushing to my face, and I was glad that I had the cover of darkness to hide it.

"Well, umm... thanks," I smiled awkwardly, and he just nodded, as he usually did, "I guess I should get some sleep then. G'night, Daryl." I walked back to the tent, inwardly cursing myself for being a mooch and socially inept.

"I saw that," Amy's sudden appearance at my side startled me.

"Saw what?" I asked, although I knew what she was talking about.

"You have a thing," She announced triumphantly. She sent a fleeting glance behind us, and I knew without looking what, or rather who, she was talking about. Amy gave me a victorious look that clearly said 'I told you so' and entered the tent, and I followed closely behind her.

"What're we in high school?" I scowled, "Jesus, don't you have anything better to do than butt into my life?"

"I don't have the luxury of a television anymore," she countered, "I have to entertain myself somehow. Besides, it wouldn't bother you so much if I wasn't right."

"Well, you're wrong so do me a favor and just shut up about it," Amy just chuckled and piked up her book. I popped one of the pills in my mouth and chased it down with the water. Suddenly, I was extremely glad for the pills: I could just pass out instead of being Amy's entertainment for the night. Also, I could forget about the fact that I was starting to think that maybe she was right...

A/N: Yayy! Another chapter down! Let me know what you think cause things are starting to get gooooooood!


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** Don't own anything from The Walking Dead, comic or show.

So I had to take an unplanned hiatus because of family things, SEVERE writer's block, and I finally got a job! I'm really sorry for the wait!

Thanks for all your reviews, they really help! Keep em coming!

* * *

**Chapter 6: It Hurts Me Too**

"Fuck."

The contents of my duffle bag were strewn about the tent. Not that it made it messy, seeing as I didn't really have much. Just some clothes, my pistol, a bat, a few toiletries and two books: this was all I had left of my former life, and none of it would be good enough for Daryl Dixon.

I had awoken from the best night of sleep I'd had since the outbreak that morning, thanks to the pills that Daryl had given me. Despite the rest they had given me, I couldn't help but feel guilty. I mean, there was the power bar and water the first day I joined the group, then the semi-constant supply of food, and now he had risked dipping into Merle's drug stash for painkillers. And if Merle having a hissy fit over one power bar and some water, I didn't want to know how he would react to his own brother stealing his very limited supply of drugs. All of this was running through my head, and continuing the growth of the guilt in my gut.

So that morning, since I had slept in well past breakfast, I had upturned my bag, searching for something, _anything_ that would be a fair trade. Unfortunately I had packed lightly for that fateful trip to that cabin with Mark. He had always teased me about over packing, so I packed light, to prove him wrong. Probably the worst decision I ever made in my life.

I decided that my books wouldn't really be of any use to him. It would be too much effort to kill anything with a book, although, if anyone could find a way to do so, it would be Daryl. Other than that I had some soap I was willing to part with, but I didn't want him to think that I thought he was gross. And something told me he probably wouldn't have any use for that either.

I angrily shoved my things back into my bag. The anger wasn't just from not finding a suitable payback gift for Daryl; I had _nothing_. Most of the clothes weren't even mine. Only having two books to my name was weird. My life was shattered and I had to start over from scratch. I wasn't prepared at all for any of this, but it didn't matter because, well, who was?

I slipped into my one pair of jeans and threw on a loose fitting, green v neck shirt that slightly hung off my shoulder. I pulled my hair up off my neck and secured it with a hair tie, the breeze cooling me off. Stepping out of the tent, I could tell that I had slept later than I thought. It seemed that I was the last one up. Everyone was up and about, doing their chores. Well, didn't I just feel like a lazy fucker.

"Got something on your mind?" Dale put a hand on my shoulder.

"I'm good," I smiled up at Dale, "Just feeling a little guilty that I didn't start breakfast."

"Well Andrea said she tried to wake you, but you were out cold," he said, "You really must've needed the sleep."

"Yeah, but I don't like it when people have to do my work for me."

"Who said it was your work?" Dale asked. He did have a point. I did just kind of assign myself to cooking breakfast in the morning. But that was mostly because I couldn't really sleep form the pain in my foot and the general end-of-the-world fear. "You do a lot around here, don't think it goes unappreciated. I don't think I've ever seen you take a break. Can't be too good for your foot. You should stay off it, give it more time to heal."

"I know, I know," I sighed, "I guess... I guess keeping myself busy helps me to cope." Dale nodded, and gently squeezed my shoulder. As he started to walk away, I was struck with a sudden inspiration to end my predicament, "Have you seen Glenn around?"

"He's on another supply run. He left early this morning," Dale quirked an eyebrow as my face fell, "Did you need something?"

"Well, yeah but...It's kind of a long story and um," I stared down at my feet, the embarrassment washing over me. Dale walked back over to my side, returning his hand to my shoulders.

"It seems to me that nowadays, we have a lot more time for stories," I looked up to see a knowing smile cross his features. Dale had a way of making people comfortable. Comfortable enough to admit and reveal things that they wouldn't normally want to. But it was okay, somehow you could trust him. And that he wasn't out to judge anyone; all he wanted was to help people feel safe by listening.

"The reason I didn't wake up this morning is because Daryl gave me these painkillers," I continued to inspect my feet, trying to hide the embarrassment that was clearly written on my face, and I spoke quietly, "They knocked me out and it was the best night's sleep I've had in so long. But now I feel bad because I should give him something back. I don't want anyone to think I'm freeloading. But I have nothing. I don't even have enough for myself."

When I finally looked up, Dale was smiling down at me; the same smile that Amy had given me the night before. That made me all the more mortified. "No one thinks you're freeloading."

"Thanks," Again, my gaze found my feet, "I just... It makes me feel little like a charity case or something."

"There's no shame in accepting some help once in a while."

"I know, I know," I sighed, "I guess I've been on my own for a while, even before all of this, so it's hard to admit I need the help." I stood there awkwardly, wondering why I was being so candid about myself. Dale just had a way of getting under your skin. He must have noticed that I was done with the self realizations because he smiled a little wider and put his hand back on my shoulder.

"I think I have something to help you out," He walked off towards the RV, and I followed him inside. Dale was rummaging through the cabinets in the kitchenette, muttering to himself. He smiled triumphantly when he found whatever he was looking for in one of the drawers, "I promised my late wife that I would quit, but with everything that's happened, I don't think she would mind if I had one every once in a while," Dale offered a pack of Marlboro reds.

"I can't just take these from you to give to someone else," I said, "You should keep them. Who knows if you'll be able to find another pack?"

"Actually, I've got two more," Dale confessed, looking a little guilty, "Even though Erma asked me to, I couldn't get rid of all my packs. And I prefer menthols anyhow. Might as well give those to someone who'll use them."

"Thank you, Dale," I took the pack, smiling, "Now I'm gonna have to find something to make up for this, too. I guess it's a never ending cycle."

"I'll let you have this one freebie," Dale joked, "Can't have Daryl thinking you're a freeloader or he might stop feeding you," Again, that knowing smile from before had worked its way on his face. I felt my own start to blush.

"You've been talking to Amy too much," I replied with an eye roll, "She needs to mind her own business."

"No, it was Andrea," Dale sighed, "She's worried."

"Why?" I said, raising a brow.

"Andrea doesn't trust the Dixons," Dale didn't beat around the bush, which I appreciated. Groaning, I ran a hand over my face. Amy, Andrea and I had become very close since we arrived at the quarry, but Andrea didn't need to worry about me. And she especially didn't need to discuss her concerns for me with anyone.

"There's nothing to worry about," I said dismissively, crossing my arms under my chest. I leaned against the counter, readying myself for whatever lecture he was going to give me.

"There isn't?" Dale quirked his eyebrow this time.

"No," I answered, "There isn't! I'm almost 24 years old, well, if I've been counting the days right. I can have a conversation with a member of the opposite sex without...without being _interested_ in him! Jesus."

"I never said that I thought you were interested in anyone," That fucking smile made another reappearance. I opened my mouth, but I couldn't come up with a response. I was caught, "I know there's nothing to worry about," Dale continued, "Even though he has a temper, Daryl's alright."

"You're the only other person who thinks so," I muttered.

"But Merle-"

"Trust me, I know," I interrupted him, "I know he uses, and I know his temper is worse than Daryl's. Merle and I aren't friends."

"So you and Daryl are?" Well, that question certainly took me off guard. I bit my lower lip, a tick that I developed whenever I was really thinking, and this question did get the gears turning in my head. Even though Daryl and I did talk from time to time, neither of us really knew anything about the other. Daryl could have had a double life as a drag queen before the outbreak for all I knew. And that was a mental image I filed away for rainy days. Well, any day if I'm being honest.

"I honestly don't know Dale," I replied. My gaze fell to the floor, "I'm pretty sure he just tolerates me since I help him skin whatever animals he brings back."

"Or maybe he's just glad to have someone on his side," he suggested, "Being Merle's brother gave him a bad reputation around here. You're the only one who can seem to look past that. And I don't see him going out of his way for anyone else. You say it's just toleration, but I don't agree."

I really didn't know what to say to that.

"I don't know, but either way," I changed the subject, moving towards the door, "it's not really any concern of Andrea's. Or Amy's,"

"I'll talk to Andrea, tell her to relax," Dale offered. It wasn't exactly a conversation I ever expected to have with anyone, let alone Dale, but it felt good to know that there was at least one other person who agreed with me when it came to Daryl. Although, I wasn't surprised that it would be Dale. He seemed to be the type of person who could find the good in anyone. And even though I wasn't sure how I felt about his thoughts on Daryl and I, it was still nice to talk about it.

"Thanks Dale," I said, stepping out of the RV, "for the cigarettes and the talk," He nodded, and disappeared inside the vehicle.

I hobbled across the camp slowly, letting the conversation sink in fully. I still didn't know Daryl well enough to consider him a _friend_, and something told me that he wasn't in the market for any. He was all about surviving, and the less people he had to worry about, the better. At least, that's what he would like people to believe. But it couldn't be entirely true because he went out hunting almost everyday, keeping us all fed. And, as Dale pointed out, he did go out of his way for the power bar, and the pills, specifically for me. And that thought had me smiling, and then inwardly scolding myself for doing so.

I mean, nothing would happen, not that I wanted it too. Nope. Not even a little. Whatever relationship Daryl and I shared definitely wasn't anything more than a not-quite-friendship. Like I told Dale, he just tolerated me so he would have someone other than Merle to talk to. That was it. But it was still nice to know that he didn't mind having me around... or maybe Amy was getting in my head.

I found myself just a couple yards away from his truck. Since I was already here, and my foot was starting to hurt again, I might as well just pass him along the cigarettes now, and be done with it. All of a sudden, I felt irrationally nervous. I didn't really know what to say. 'Oh, hey, here's one measly cigarettes in return for the life saving supply food and pills.' Yeah, that wasn't going to work. But I didn't see him around; he wasn't sitting on the tailgate, smoking, and he didn't seem to be in his tent. At least I would have more time to get my nerves under control, which was ridiculous, because what was there to be nervous about? It was _just_ Daryl, for Christ's sake. I was never this self conscious around him before, and now just the thought of trying to do something nice for him had me flustered. _Jesus, you're acting like this is some kind of wedding dowry_, I mentally scolded myself, _Get a hold of yourself. _Shaking my head, I turned to leave.

"Ya come all this way ta keep me company sweet cheeks?" I nearly jumped out of my skin as Merle sauntered out from the trees behind the tent, laughing, "Didn't I scare ya, did I?"

"No," I replied automatically, "Just... didn't think anyone was here."

"Nah, just you an' me, sweetheart," the smile he gave me made my skin crawl, and as much as I wanted to leave, I stood my ground. Sadly I had grown accustomed to Merle's cat calling and general lewdness, but it still made me uncomfortable. But I wanted to just give Daryl the damn cigarettes before I lost the nerve, and Merle wasn't helping any.

"I do have an actual name that doesn't have the word 'sweet' in it," I snapped. I couldn't think of one time he had used my actual name. It was always sweet cheeks, sweetheart, baby doll, or something else along those lines. Daryl had said my name four times. Not that I was counting.

"Christ woman, just tryna be all gentleman-like," Merle scoffed.

"I don't think you know how," I muttered. I turned to leave, but he stepped in my way.

"Oh, I do know how," He stepped way too close for comfort, and I moved away, but he followed, blocking my path again, "I know how to do a lotta things," he raised his eyebrows suggestively.

"Well, you clearly don't know how to take a fucking hint," I pushed past him, but he just laughed.

"Well shit girl, didn't think a scrawny thing like ya would be so ballsy," Merle said, "Must be why Darylina likes ya so much."

I stopped and turned to face him, "Shut up," I grumbled. I couldn't think of anything clever to say, as all the blood left my brain and flowed into my face. Merle must've noticed because he laughed even harder.

"What do ya think he keeps ya around for? He don't havta feed ya," he said, "And I seen him, watchin' ya. If he don't get his head on straight he's gonna get himself killed."

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm sayin' that yer a distraction," Merle's mood suddenly darkened, and he took a few steps closer, "See, Daryl has a habit of pickin' up strays, playin' hero or some shit."

"Merle, I don't-"

"He found this dog," he continued as if I hadn't spoken, "when he was a kid. It was a stray, and starvin'. So he fed it, and it got better. It got sick, and the vet bills were gettin' might high. If I didn' get rid uh the damn thing, we wouldn'ta had nothing ta eat."

"You didn't..." I couldn't finish my thought. While I knew that Merle wasn't exactly stable, I never thought he would actually stoop so low as to kill his own brother's pet. But the look on his face told me otherwise, "Jesus, Merle, he was just a kid! How could you do that to him?"

"I'm the one who was always there for 'im," Merle went on, more speaking to himself than to me, "Every time that boy made a mess I was there to pick up after 'im. I got his back an' he's got mine. That's how we survive this shit. An' I'm not gonna let anything, or _anyone, _fuck that up." He looked up then. I couldn't quite read the look on his face, but it was unsettling. For a moment I felt vulnerable. Merle looked like a predator about to pounce, and I was the prey.

But the feeling only lasted for a moment, and I was struck by a sudden wave of complete idiocy.

"That's a bunch of bullshit Merle," I blurted. I stepped up to Merle as close as I dared, and looked him straight in the eye, "The only person you care about is yourself. Daryl goes out hunting almost everyday, feeding all of us, and I've only ever seen you out there once. Not to mention the times he's had to all but drag you into your tent whenever you're high," Merle's eyes widened, and he looked surprised for a second, but then his face turned back to his previous stoic expression. I continued anyway, not wanting to lose my sudden, and stupid, bravery, "What have you done for him? For anyone? You need _him_ more than he needs _you_."

The phrase 'if looks could kill' seemed quite inadequate at this point.

I decided that it would be in my best interests to leave, and I did so as quick as I could, without looking as though I was running away. I expected Merle to lose it. At least call me a bitch or something worse, maybe even try to hit me, but he was quiet. He didn't do anything, which I found to be far more scary. I didn't dare look back, but I felt his stare bore into my back with all the hatred and fury he could muster.

* * *

Later that afternoon, I had somehow been assigned as babysitter for the day. Andrea, Amy, Jacqui, and Miranda had all gone down to the lake to do the laundry, and the kids weren't interested in learning the finer points of clothes washing. And, of course, none of the men stepped up to the plate. So when Miranda had asked that I keep an eye on the children, I said it wouldn't be a problem. What _was_ a problem for me was learning how to say no. I took comfort in the fact that there was only four of them, and they were all well behaved and good at keeping themselves busy.

I didn't bother to ask why Lori wasn't around. She probably had made up some story about going off for more firewood or something of that nature, but I don't think she quite understood what being discreet meant. Shane wasn't anywhere to be found either. Carol had said she wasn't feeling well, at least that was what Sophia had told everyone at breakfast when her mother failed to appear. Miranda told me that I had slept through the fighting that came form the Peletier tent last night.

It was common knowledge among our merry band of survivors that Ed Peletier was an asshole who beat his wife. He also didn't seem to understand discretion, or maybe he just didn't care. One more than one occasion, the arguing could be heard from their tent, as well as the dull thuds of fist meeting flesh. Shane had tried once or twice to intervene, but Carol had always insisted that nothing was going on and she could handle Ed.

So there I was, sitting under a tree observing the intense game of go fish that Carl, Luis and Eliza were playing. Every time Eliza got one of her brother's cards, Luis would accuse her of cheating, which in fact, she was. It didn't help his cause that he wasn't exactly hiding his cards from view. Sophia had quit the game a while ago, saying that they needed to learn new card games to play. She had sat herself next to me, quietly observing the game.

I had no experience with kids whatsoever. I was an only child, so I had no younger siblings. And I never babysat a day in my life. My dad wouldn't let me because it would interfere with my studies. And I most certainly didn't know what to say to a victim of abuse. I figured it would be best to not talk about it, since technically I wasn't supposed to know and Sophia didn't seem like expressing her feelings on the subject.

"Do you think that more of those monsters will find us?" Sophia looked up at me with fearful eyes. I didn't know what to say. Lying to her seemed like a bad idea. I didn't want to give her any false hopes. But I also didn't want to scare her anymore than she already was. So I decided to just sugar coat it.

"We'll be fine," I said, "We've got lookouts at all times of the day. We far enough from the city so that they can't sneak up on us."

"The one from yesterday did," Damn, she didn't miss a beat.

"I think that was a fluke," I lied. It seemed the easier option at this point, "Shane's a police officer. He knows how to keep us safe, and we're surrounded by good people. As long as you stay close, you have nothing to worry about."

"My dad isn't a good person," She said it so quietly, that I thought I hadn't heard her right. Sophia stared straight ahead; her face betrayed no emotion. To her, she was just stating the facts. It was a little unnerving how apathetic she was about her relationship with her father. Whenever she spoke of him, which didn't happen often, her responses were robotic and sounded rehearsed. She reminded me of myself at her age, and that was what really got to me.

"My dad wasn't a good person either," I admitted. Sophia gave me a confused look, but I continued, "Neither was my mom. They're actually the worst people I know. Or maybe knew... I haven't seen or spoken to them for seven years."

"Really? You got away?"

"Yeah, I did."

"I wish I could get away," She said. She stared off into space for a moment, and I could almost see the imagined escape scenarios playing out in her eyes. Sophia looked back at her tent, suddenly dejected, "but I couldn't leave my mom. He would-" She stopped suddenly, looking from me, back to her tent, as if she was scared her father could hear us. Tears welled in her eyes and she mumbled, "It would be my fault."

"Look at me, Sophia," She tore her gaze from the ground. I placed my hand on her shoulder, "Nothing is your fault. Anything that your poor excuse for a father does has nothing to do with you. It's all on him. You and your mom did nothing wrong. And if he tries anything, you can always tell Shane, or Dale, or me. You don't have to be afraid of him. Understand?"

Sophia sniffed, and nodded. We both returned to watching the card game, but I quickly became lost in thought. The conversation had triggered a flood of childhood memories, and none of them were pleasant. I knew what Sophia was going through, and how alone she must have felt. But unlike myself, she at least had her mother. She watched the other kids, who seemed to not have a care in the world, other than the outcome of their game. Sophia envied them. While the world may have ended, the other kids didn't have to fear their own parents. For Sophia, her own father was the monster that she worried about most.

"Do you like to read?" I asked. She nodded, our previous conversation pushed to the back of her mind, but not forgotten.

"I always wanted to be a writer," she admitted.

"Well, if you help me up, you can borrow one of mine," Sophia scrambled to stand up, and held out her hand for me. I chuckled as she worked to pull me to my feet. She led the way back to my tent, having the advantage of two properly working feet. Luckily it was only a short distance from where we were sitting. Sophia waited outside the tent and I dug around until I found the only two books the remained of the library I had at my apartment.

"Something tells me that the third edition of the _Practical Handbook of Marine Science_ wouldn't really interest you," I said, stepping out of the tent, "so this will have to do." She took the turquoise and purple book from my hand, and opened it to the title page.

"_Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban_?" Sophia looked up at me, and all the excitement was gone from her face, "My dad says I'm not allowed to read these."

"Well, I won't tell if you won't," I said, "You can read it in my tent though, just to be safe."

"Thank you!" She wrapped her arms around my waist and squeezed. She had quite a grip for a twelve year old. I stood there for a moment before I awkwardly patted her back. When she let go, she looked up at me, beaming. I couldn't help but to smile back. I knew what she was going through, and it felt good to give her something to look forward to.

"Come on," I said, ushering into the tent, "Since this is the third book you've got some major catching up to do," And that is how we spent the rest of the afternoon; I gave her the quick, reader's digest versions of the first two books, and then began reading the third one aloud, while simultaneously keeping an eye on the other kids. Even though my experience with children was extremely lacking, I didn't feel so uncomfortable with Sophia. With the other kids, I felt like I had to constantly entertain them, but Sophia was perfectly fine sitting back to watch, much like I had been at that age. And still was. I also felt the need to watch out for her. I knew what her life must be like, having lived through abuse myself, which is why I started to feel protective of the girl.

I had just finished reading the fourth chapter when the distinct noise of someone clearing their throat caught our attention. We both looked to the entrance of the tent quickly, and I hid the book from view, just in case Ed had decided to make an appearance. But it was only Lori, although I wasn't sure if her presence was a good or bad thing yet.

"Sorry to interrupt," she started, "but your mom's looking for you, Sophia."

"Okay," she looked disappointed as she stood up to leave, but not before she gave me another quick hug, "Thanks again for reading with me."

"Anytime," I squeezed her back. When Sophia left the tent to find her mom, I expected Lori to follow her. But she stayed just outside my tent, looking like she had something to say. Since we hadn't spoken to each other since the 'incident' the day before, her lingering there was making me very nervous.

"Can we talk?"

Shit.

"Um, sure," I exited the tent, trying not to make direct eye contact. She didn't seem angry, which was a good sign. But the way Lori was fidgeting was making me anxious. She and I had never really had a conversation, so I didn't know what to expect.

"I just wanted to apologize for yesterday," Well, I certainly wasn't expecting that. She continued, "It was wrong of me to blow up like that. I know you were protecting the kids, but I just was so scared that Carl-" She stopped to take a calming breath. She was clearly still rattled from the almost walker attack.

"Don't worry about it," I said, "I don't know what it's like to be a mother, especially with everything that's happened, but it must be hard."

"Carl is all I have left," Lori's eyes became glassy, and I was in no way prepared to deal with a crying woman who just the day before had probably wanted to kill me, "My husband is dead, and I have no idea if my parents are alive. Other than some old pictures, Carl is the only thing I have left of my old life. I can't lose him. And when I saw that walker... it's the first one we've had up here, that close. But you protected him, and the others. But I was just too worried and scared to see that. So, I'm sorry."

"You don't need to apologize," I answered, "Things just got heated yesterday, and we both just... freaked out. With the way we're living now it was bound to happen sooner or later, so let's just forget about it and-"

"Shane!" Dale called out for the cop from atop the RV. Given the fact that a walker had creeped its way too close to our camp just yesterday, everyone was on high alert. Lori and I ran over to the RV, where Shane had just made his way to the roof, "There's a car headed this way."

"Is it Glenn? Is he back?" Jacqui shielded her eyes as she looked up for an answer.

"No," Shane replied, looking out at the road through the binoculars, "It's a SUV. Glenn took his little Hyundai," There were murmurs of fear among everyone gathered at the bottom of the vehicle. While walkers were pretty terrifying, they were predictable. People, alive and breathing people, on the other hand... well, it's not like people were predictable before the outbreak. If anything, Mark leaving me for dead proved it.

"What should we do?" Lori asked as Shane climbed down the ladder. I could tell the woman was afraid, but she put on a brave face for the children's sake, "Maybe they're just looking for a place to stay?"

"It's possible," Shane allowed, "But we have to be careful. We don't know what these people are capable of. That road only goes one place, and that's here."

"Alright, I'll get the kids into the RV," Lori hurried off to round up the children, and everyone else headed for their tents. I caught up with Shane at his Jeep, just as he pulled out his gun.

"Do you really think that will be necessary?" I eyed the far-too-large weapon warily.

"Doesn't hurt to be prepared," he answered, "You should get in the RV. At least until we know what these people are about."

"I'll be fine," I protested, "Besides, I have a gun you could use. Like you said, we don't know what these people are about, and as fearsome as that gun is, you might need the backup."

"Just get your ass in the RV," I whirled around to see Daryl had come back from his hunt just in time, still wielding his crossbow, "We got this. Sides, that pea shooter ain't gonna do shit."

"But Daryl-"

"Just go," It wasn't a request. I eyed him angrily, but he wasn't having it. He stared right back, but there was only concern in his eyes.

"Fine," I huffed, and hustled to the RV as fast as I could. When I reached the door, I turned back to see Daryl was still watching me to make sure I did as I was told. I locked eyes with him, silently sending him a message to be careful. He nodded as if I had said it aloud.

When I entered the RV, I ran past the kids and Lori and Carol, straight for the back. I climbed onto the small bed and opened the window so that I would be able to hear what they were saying. The black SUV had finally made it into our camp, and Shane, Daryl, T-Dog, and even Merle stood between us and the vehicle. The glare on the windows shielded whoever was inside from our view.

"What's going on?" Lori asked and sat down beside me.

"I don't know, I was told to just get my ass in here," I scoffed. I could hear Carol reassuring the kids that everything was fine, and I really hoped it would be. The door of the SUV opened, and I held my breath, waiting for a battle to ensue. I saw Shane raise his gun slightly, and Daryl tensed as well. A tall, rather muscular, dark skinned man stepped out of the driver's side of the car, his hands in the air.

"This isn't exactly the welcome I was expecting."

* * *

**A/N:** I know it's cruel to end here, but I didn't want it to drag on! Please review, it really helps!


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N:** Still down own anything from the Walking Dead; comic or show.

This chapter really just did not want to be written. I'm sorry for taking so long to update!

* * *

**Chapter 7: Blood on the Tracks**

"This isn't exactly the welcome I was expecting."

His hands still raised, the stranger took two steps forward. The man was big; he had an inch or two on Daryl in height, and he wasn't scrawny by any means. There was at least a week's worth of scruff on his face, and his dark hair was cropped close to his head. Nothing obvious seemed off about him; he was actually smiling as if he wasn't essentially being held at gun point. But despite the man's attempt at humor, he was still a stranger, and Daryl didn't trust strangers to begin with.

"These ain't exactly welcoming times," Shane answered, eyeing the man.

"Guys, stop!" The back door of the SUV flew open, and Glenn scrambled out, much to everyone's surprise. He quickly stepped between Shane and the stranger, "Stop! It's okay."

"What the hell's going on, Glenn?" Shane lowered his gun, but never took his eyes off the man. T-Dog lowered his bat as well, and Glenn let out a sigh of relief. Daryl, however, kept his crossbow at the ready. Despite Glenn's reassurance that the guy checked out, Daryl still didn't trust him. Merle stood beside him, weaponless. He was about to open his mouth, more than likely to make some crude comment, but Glenn cut him off.

"I went to this suburb, just outside the city," he began, "Most of the house were picked clean, but I managed to find some food and stuff. I went in this one house and when I came out, walkers were in the street. And not just two or three... it was too many for me to handle on my own, and they cut me off from the car."

"So, what, this guy just happened to be there?" Shane asked, the doubt written on his face.

"Yeah, we were, actually," the man said, "We'd been holed up in one of those houses for weeks. Saw his car from the window, so I followed him. That's when he ran into trouble, so I helped him out. Now, you gonna tell Deliverance over there to back off?" he snapped, glaring at Daryl.

"Ya think it's smart to insult the guy with a crossbow aimed at your head?" he snarled, taking a few steps forward.

"Wait," T-Dog broke the silence, "Did you say 'we'?"

As if on cue, the back door of the SUV opened, and out stepped a teenaged girl, who bore a striking resemblance to the man before them. She was followed by another teenager, though his pale, freckled skin and shaggy brown hair and glasses made it clear he wasn't related to either of them. Just as Daryl was about to make a smart comment about having more mouths to feed, a woman appeared from inside the car, clutching a little girl to her chest. She seemed to be the same age as the man, with dirty blonde hair that fell just to her shoulders. The child's face was buried in her mother's shoulder, but she had the same blonde locks as her mother.

"As you can see," The man started, "We don't mean any harm. We're just looking for a safe place to stay."

"Well, I guess we can start with the introductions then," Shane said, offering his hand to the stranger, "I'm Shane Walsh."

"Tyreese," he shook Shane's hand, "This is my daughter, Julie, and her boyfriend Chris. That's Helen, and her daughter, Maddie."

"Hold on a fuckin' minute," Merle barked, "We're jus' gonna let these people waltz on up here and stay? Just like that? They're just gonna be more mouths ta feed, and I don' think I'm in the sharin' kind of mood."

"Good thing it ain't up to you then," Shane answered, "As long as y'all pull your weight around here, and don't cause any trouble, you have a place to stay."

"If it helps," Tyreese said, "We've got a pretty good stockpile going in the trunk. We're willing to share, in exchange for letting us stay." Shane nodded eagerly; the promise of new supplies was too good to pass up. Merle scoffed and stomped back to his tent, muttering various slurs and insults along the way. Daryl shouldered crossbow, taking a few steps back. The group had begun introducing themselves to the newcomers, and Daryl had no desire to take part in it. He was about to retreat to his tent when the RV door opened. Lori emerged first, making a beeline for Shane. Carol appeared next, the two kids close behind her as they made their way over to the others. Finally, Diana slowly stepped out of the RV.

He watched as she began to head towards the others, but she stopped after a few steps. Diana eyed the newcomers with the same wariness that he had at first. She shifted uncomfortably, debating whether or not she should join them. Diana turned to face him suddenly, cocking a eyebrow as if to ask if these strangers checked out. Daryl just shrugged in return, and started back to his tent.

But Glenn calling Diana's name had him turning back around before he could stop himself. He watched as the kid waved her over to the back of the SUV. Daryl took a couple steps closer, just enough so that was a good couple yards away, but still within listening distance. He wasn't sure why he cared what Glenn had to say. Normally, he ignored Glenn, like he did with everyone else. But now Daryl was curious to see what the kid was up to, for no reason apparently. Well, Daryl knew there was a very good reason, but he refused to acknowledge it in any way. Sighing, he sat himself down under a tree nearby and tried to look busy cleaning his crossbow.

"What's up, Glenn?" he heard her ask. Daryl snuck a glance at the two of them. Diana was standing next to Glenn, with her hands in her back pockets. Glenn had a ridiculous smile on his face that pissed Daryl off. Glenn opened the trunk of the SUV, and she got that same stupid look on her face.

"Holy shit, there's so much food!" she picked up the cans, nearly jumping with excitement, "Oh my god, I never thought I would be this excited over canned fruit!"

"Yeah, I know," Glenn started digging around the trunk, disappearing from Daryl's sight, "But actually I wanted to show you this," He reappeared, holding something that Daryl couldn't identify. It was black and grey, and it looked like it was plastic. There seemed to be buckles on the front, but he couldn't be sure from a distance. Whatever it was, it had Diana smiling even wider than before.

"A walking cast!" She took the thing form Glenn's hands, examining it, "It's even for the left foot! Where did you find it?"

"After Tyreese saved my ass, we stopped at this medical supply store," Glenn explained, "They were running low on first aid supplies, and he thought there might be some stuff there. But it was mostly just crutches, ace bandages, and stuff like this," He gestured toward the boot, "I figured this thing will work better than that splint."

"Yeah, it probably will," She said, "Thank you so much, Glenn."

"It was no problem," he replied. He looked a little to proud of himself.

"Except for the part where you almost got killed," She pointed out, rolling her eyes. Daryl allowed himself a small smirk at her remark. But the smirk didn't last. A feeling suddenly washed over him, but he couldn't put a finger on what it was. All he knew was that he had felt this way before, and he didn't like it.

"That part did kinda suck," Glenn admitted, looking appropriately sheepish. By then, the others had made their way to the trunk, all of them clearly thrilled with the amount of food the newcomers brought. Daryl watched as Diana slowly and quietly extracted herself from the group. She looked completely uncomfortable, and was clutching the walking cast to her chest. Once she had put herself at what she deemed was a safe distance, she relaxed. Daryl recognized the way she was acting. After all, he was never comfortable in social situations himself.

She suddenly turned to him, meeting his gaze. He inwardly scolded himself for getting caught staring. Diana offered him a small, awkward smile, and started heading over to him, only to be cut off by the younger of those blonde chicks. She mentioned something about the walking cast, and exercises for her foot, and Diana smiled again. The two walked off together, but not before she sent one fleeting glance his way.

Daryl sighed as he stood up. Picking up his crossbow from the ground, he finally came up with a name for what he was feeling: confused. He didn't know why he had essentially eavesdropped on their conversation, or why he cared to. He did know that he was annoyed by Glenn and Diana's friendship. That's all it was, though. Just friendship, nothing else. He knew he shouldn't care anyway. He had Merle, and that was enough for him, right?

* * *

A week had passed since Glenn had brought his new friends back to our camp. A long, uneventful week. But it was better that way. No surprise walker attacks or camp drama... things actually seemed to be going well. We were all adapting to this new life; any hope of being rescued had begun to fade. The only person to even hold on to that dream was Shane, and it was starting to wear on him.

The stockpile of food that Tyreese and his people brought with him was definitely a welcome sight. Lori, Carol and Helen had taken up the task of rationing it, and it had lasted for quite a while. It was starting to run low, and talk of group going into the city instead of just Glenn was going around. Since our group of survivors had multiplied, more supplies were needed, and soon. There would be no way for Glenn to get that much stuff on his own, and as much as he hated the idea, he needed to assemble a group to take into the city.

I was a little upset that I couldn't be of any use in that department, but at the same time, the idea of going into the city terrified me. I didn't have much experience with walkers; I had only crossed paths with four since the outbreak started, and all four times I was scared shitless. I had killed two, but both those times were dumb luck. If that walker had seen me while Shane, Daryl and I were walking back to the group, I probably would be dead. And I just happened to have my gun on me that day the walker attacked Carol. I was nowhere near experienced enough to be heading into that city, broken foot or not.

So I devoted my time to working around the camp. Dishes, laundry, cooking, etc. In my old life, domestic work like that would've driven me crazy, but it was actually kind of nice to do something so... normal. The chores kept my mind off of the state of the world, off of Mark and losing everyone that I knew, off of the loneliness. If I focused on the tasks, I could block everything else out, and be useful at the same time.

But today I had been a little too efficient, and the chores were all done by the afternoon. I wasn't really feeling up for too much social interaction, so I decided to stay in the tent, despite the heat. Even though I had been feeling pretty lonely, I still felt anxious around the group sometimes. I had spent my childhood by myself, which led me to being a socially inept adult. I had always lived with anxiety and major trust issues, and it usually was pretty bad around people I didn't know. But there wasn't time for it now. If I was going to survive, I had to learn to get over it. So I interacted with the group in small doses, until I got used to being in their presence, until I knew I could trust them. Well, most of them, anyway. It goes without saying that Merle wasn't one to be trusted. Or Ed.

When Tyreese and his people showed up, I was nervous. I had just started getting used to these people, and then even more show up, out of the blue? Glenn had vouched for them, and while I respected his opinions, I was still wary of them. It's not that I thought they were dangerous, I just didn't know them. Now I would have to start the process all over again.

So I hid in my tent instead, deciding that I would start that process the next day. Since Glenn had found that walking cast, getting around camp had been so much easier. Taking off that splint was a relief, and had felt like I was leaving the last piece of Mark behind. While it still hurt sometimes, my foot was feeling a lot better, and Amy had shown me some exercises she learned in school to help speed up the healing process. I was writing out the alphabet with my big toe, making sure to move only my ankle and foot like Amy had told me so many times, when Sophia appeared at the entrance of the tent.

"Is it okay if I read some more?" She looked around, making sure her father was no where to be seen. Apparently, Ed thought that Harry Potter was the thing to worry about in times like these.

"Come on in," I dug around my bag until I found the book. Sophia entered the tent, and grabbed the book out of my hands. She muttered a quick thanks, and immediately began reading. We sat in silence, neither of us feeling the need to talk. Sophia was easy to be around for that reason. I had just finished writing out the letter 'z' with my toe when Amy joined us.

"How's the foot?"

"A lot better, thanks to you," I wiggled my toes, showing her the progress I had made, "Maybe I'll be able to wear two shoes soon."

"Probably," she said, sitting down in front of me. Amy started bending my toes to see how the bones were healing. It hurt, but not nearly as much as before. Each day she did this, she was able to bend the joints in my foot a little further. It was a relief to know that the lack of medical attention hadn't left my foot in a state of total disrepair, "I'd say give another week or so. I'm not an expert, but you're showing good signs of healing so you should be able to get rid of the walking cast soon."

"Well, you're as close to an expert as I can get, so thanks for the help."

"No problem," Amy smiled, "Oh, actually I was wondering if I could borrow a towel? Mine is still wet from the rain yesterday and Andrea, Miranda and I were going down to the lake to wash off, wanna come with?"

"Nah, I don't wanna put the boot on just yet," I answered, "Besides, if we both go, one of us won't have a towel and I have company at the moment."

"I can go if you want," Sophia looked up from the book.

"No, it's alright," I replied, "I washed up this morning anyways. There's a towel in my bag you can use," Amy nodded in thanks, and searched my bag for the towel.

"You know, it's going to get cold out soon," Amy said, "You have like, no warm clothes."

"It's August, I don't think I need to worry about that yet."

"Tomorrow's September."

"Really?"

"Yeah," she replied, "Andrea's been keeping track. SHe might be a day or two off, but it's not going to be summer for much longer."

"Oh," I hadn't realized so much time had passed. If Andrea was right, I had even missed my own birthday. I laid back on my sleeping bag, absorbing that fact. Not that my past birthdays were anything special, it just would've been nice to know that I had become another year older. Besides, birthday parties weren't an option anymore.

"You smoke?"

"What?" I sat up to see her holding the pack of Marlboro Reds that Dale had given me a week ago. I would like to say that I just completely forgot about the cigarettes, but that would be a lie. Really, I just was too scared to just give them to Daryl, "Oh, those aren't mine."

"Why do you have them, then?"

"Well, I was... I was just holding them... for someone."

Smooth.

"I'm not your mom," Amy rolled her eyes, "You can tell me. Who are they for?"

"Don't worry about it," I laid back down, and put my arm over my eyes, silently praying that she would just drop it and leave. But I was never that lucky, and Amy wasn't one to let these things go.

"Alright," She started, a smug look on her face, "I can figure this out. There's only three people that I know who smoke in this camp: Ed-" She snuck a glance at Sophia, worried that she may have offended her, but Sophia was too wrapped up in the book to listen to our conversation, "Merle, and Daryl."

"Okay, Sherlock. But I'm not-"

"Obviously, they're not for Ed," she continued, "And I'm pretty sure we can rule Merle out, too, so..." She let the sentence hang in the air, that smile that seriously annoyed me slowly creeping onto her face.

"Weren't you heading down to the lake?" I tried, "You shouldn't keep the others waiting. Also, you stink."

"Shut up," Amy threw the cigarettes at me, rolling her eyes, "You're just mad because I found out."

"You found out nothing."

"Denial isn't just a river in Egypt..." She rose to leave the tent, narrowly avoiding the pillow I threw at her on her way out.

I knew that Amy was going to tell Andrea about the cigarettes, and I just hoped she would at least have the decency to tell only her sister. This was another reason why I had social troubles; I just wanted certain things about my life kept private. Was that really too much to ask? I only wanted to give Daryl the cigarettes was because I owed him. That's the _only _reason. Or so I kept telling myself...

"Sophia!" Eliza called, running up to the tent. She poked her head in and said a quick hello to me and turned her attention to her friend, "We're bored, do you wanna play cards with us?"

"Well, I..." she was torn, not able to put the book down, but still wanting to spend time with her friends.

"Why don't you take the book with you?" I suggested, "You can read and watch them play, so you're not missing out."

"But what about my dad?" she asked quietly.

"Isn't he on watch?"

"Yeah," she answered, still looking unsure.

"Well, you've at least got another two hours then. And if he gives you any trouble, just tell him the book is mine," I offered, "He can't be mad at you for reading."

"Alright, I'm coming," Sophia followed Eliza out of the tent, and, thankfully, I was alone. I laid back down, but something was poking my back. Reaching under me, I pulled out the goddamn cigarettes. The pack felt heavy in my hand. Those stupid cigarettes ruined my day. I knew I should just get over it and give them to him, and there was no reason to make such a big deal out of it, but there was still a part of me that was just scared; scared of his reaction, of what it would mean, what he would think it meant. Over analyzation was something I was very good at.

"Fuck this," I muttered to no one. I chucked the pack into my bag, and decided that I needed a nap. Maybe some extra sleep would help me sort things out. Probably not, but I had nothing else better to do... except getting rid of the fucking cigarettes.

* * *

I woke up a short while later, feeling slightly better. The cigarettes were sitting on top of my bag, so I tucked them into my back pocket. I just had to do it. Get it over with. I was just making it into a bigger deal than it was the more I put it off.

It was late afternoon, the sun hanging low in the sky when I left the tent. The camp was unusually empty. I saw Dale sitting atop the RV and sent him a wave. Jim was working below him, trying to get the vehicle back into working order. Helen was sitting with Maddie, reading her some book. It was pretty quiet for once.

But not for long.

I heard him before I saw him, though I couldn't make out all of what he was saying at first. But as Ed barreled through the camp, I could clearly hear the obscenities as he headed my way, Sophia, in tears, following in his wake. It took me a moment to realize that his anger was in fact directed at me, and spying the book in his hand, I had a pretty good idea as to why he was outraged.

"The hell're you tryna pull?" he roared. Ed stopped just short of bowling me over, and threw the book down at my feet. I just stood there, completely taken aback. Sophia gave me an apologetic look, wiping the tears from her eyes. I should've known better than to let her take the book out of the tent. This was all my fault.

"I...it's just a book-"

"Ya think ya can teach _my_ daughter this shit?" he sneered, "Tryna turn her to tha o-cult?! Not my fuckin' kid!"

"It's just a book Ed, I didn't mean any harm," I tried to be reasonable, but I was honestly terrified. Confrontation wasn't a strong suit of mine. I had always made a point to avoid it if possible. And even though I was used to this kind of treatment from my parents, having an almost complete stranger yell at me like this was new, "I'm sorry if-"

"Sorry ain't gunna cut it," Ed stepped closer to me, his face close enough to mine that our noses were almost touching. I immediately took a step back, but he followed; a tactic my own father was quite fond of, "Fuckin' nosey bitch is what you are. Think you can turn my kid inta some kinda Satan worshipper?"

"That wasn't my intention at all," I said through clenched teeth, "She was bored so I gave her a book to read. That's all it is; just a book. Usually parents are happy when their kid is reading," I wasn't sure where the sudden bravery had come from, but it left as quick as it appeared.

"Don' git smart with me bitch," Ed snarled, pointing a finger in face, "Come near my family again, and you'll regret it," I gave him the hardest glare I could muster, despite the panic that I was doing my best to hide. I didn't doubt his threat one bit. I was beginning to wonder why no one else had showed up yet to break up our very one sided fight...

"I'm sorry Diana," Sophia sobbed. It was so heartbreaking to see her, or any child really, like this. Especially since her father was causing it.

"It's not your fault Sophia," I assured her, "You have nothing to be sorry for."

"Dont you talk ta her!" Ed bellowed, turning to his daughter. He gave her a good shove, sending her to the ground, "And you, stay outta this! Git back to tha tent!"

"Knock it off, Ed!" I snapped. But he wasn't listening. Sophia got to her feet slowly, looking utterly defeated and ashamed. But when I looked at her, I didn't see Sophia; I saw myself. I knew what she must be feeling, all the fear, the shame... that was the last straw for me.

"I said git back to tha tent!" He shoved her again, and Sophia hit the ground, again. That had me seeing red, and, as if my hand had a mind of it's own, my fist suddenly connected with Ed's face. It happened before I could stop myself. His head snapped to the left, though I don't think I did all that much damage. Pain shot from my knuckles all the way up to my shoulder. The three of us stood in silence for a moment; Ed was rubbing his cheek, and I just stared at my fist in disbelief. Sophia looked even more scared than before.

"You fuckin' cunt," Ed roughly gripped my arm, shaking me, "Ya think yer so tough? Huh?! Don't look so fuckin' tough now!" I dared a glance up at his face, but again, it wasn't Ed looking down at me. It was my father. I felt like a child again, and any resolve that I had left dissipated. He raised his fist, and I shut my eyes, waiting for the blow.

Instead, I felt his hand being yanked from my arm, and I promptly fell on my ass. I was expecting Shane or Dale, maybe even Tyreese or Daryl to have intervened. I certainly was not expecting to see Merle standing between Ed and myself.

"The fuck ya think yer doin?" Ed demanded.

"Just calm tha fuck down," Merle cautioned, "Ya don't wanna do soemthin' ya might regret, do ya?" Ed looked from me to Merle, and took a step back. I couldn't see the look on Merle's face, but it definitely seemed to have intimidated Ed. As I got to my feet, I saw Shane and Dale heading our way, with Lori, Andrea, and almost the rest of the camp in tow.

Now they show up.

"What the hell is goin' on here?" Shane demanded. I was glare Ed was giving me sent a chill down my spine. It was Merle who spoke up first.

"Nothin' Officer," he replied, "Just havin' ourselves a chat is all." Shane wasn't buying it. But I was too overwhelmed to say anything, and Ed had finally shut up as well. Everyone was looking at me. I fixed my stare on the ground, unable to make eye contact with anyone. My anxiety had reached it's limit, and it was all I could to stop myself from freaking out in front of everyone.

"Whatever," Shane sighed. He waved a hand to Merle and I, dismissing us, "Y'all go back to your tents. I wanna have a word with you, Ed," I took that opportunity to leave, turning right on my heel to the tent. I knew Amy and Andrea would be right behind, with too many questions. I walked a little faster at that thought.

"What was that?" I wasn't quick enough. Andrea caught up with me easily. She and Amy both looked worried, confused, and angry.

"It was...I just...well, I don't know," I said, "I don't want to talk about it right now."

"Well are you okay?" Amy asked, pointing at my arm. "Because that looks like it's going to bruise." I looked down at my arm, and it was red. It wasn't until she mentioned it that I realized my arm felt sore. Great.

"I'm fine," I insisted, "I just want to lay down for a bit, okay?"

"Alright," Andrea relented, "Just let us know if you need anything." I nodded and quickly ducked into the tent. I sat down on my sleeping bag, hugging my knees to my chest. I told myself over and over, Ed is not my father, my father is gone. But I was still too flustered and embarrassed to leave the safety of the tent. I just wasn't up to facing everyone at dinner just yet. They would all be looking at me, probably pitying me or thinking that I was weak. These days, I didn't need anyone's pity and I certainly couldn't have them thinking I was weak. I just hoped that this would all blow over, and that my anxiety was making a bigger deal out of the situation than it really was.

* * *

A few hours later, when everyone was in their own tents, I figured it was safe enough to leave the tent. I hadn't said anything to Amy and Andrea when they came back, except for a thank you for the food they brought me. Now they were asleep, so any pressure to talk about what happened was gone, at least for tonight. Since the rest of camp seemed quiet, I thought everyone else should be asleep as well, and since it felt like my bladder was about to explode, I grabbed some wet ones and Andrea's lantern, then ventured outside.

I quickly walked across camp. The make-shift women's room that was set up was on the other side of the camp, far from our tent. It was cold out tonight, and as Amy had pointed out earlier, I had no warm clothes to speak of. I finished my business as fast as I could; literally being caught with my pants down was not the way I wanted to end the day. I crossed my arms as I walked back to the tent, trying to retain as much body warmth possible.

"You smoke?"

I was pretty proud of myself for not screaming. But I did almost jump out of my skin, much to Daryl's amusement.

"Do you always magically appear out of thin air or do you just enjoy scaring the shit out of people?"

He just shrugged, "Wasn't tryna scare ya."

"Yeah, well try harder next time," I said, "What are you doing out here anyway?"

"On watch, walking the perimeter."

"Oh," We stood there for a moment in yet another awkward silence. Keeping up a conversation with Daryl took a lot of work, and I wasn't in the mood for it right now. I was surprised when Daryl was the one to break the silence.

"So do ya smoke?"

"No, why?"

"You got a pack in your pocket."

"Oh," I took the pack out of my pocket. Given the day's events, I had completely forgotten about cigarettes. Now would be the perfect opportunity to be cool and just give them to him. I could just say, 'Actually they're for you since you since you keep me fed, gave me painkillers, and essentially saved my life.' That shouldn't be so hard, "Well, um... they're not mine, actually... I was, uh, going to give them to you."

So close.

He nodded, taking the pack from my hand, "Your hand hurt?"

I cringed. I was glad that Daryl wasn't there earlier to witness the scene that Ed had caused, but someone, probably Merle, had told him what happened. Looking down at my knuckles, I could see that they had bruised a little. And it did hurt to move my fingers, "It hurts a little."

Before I realized what he was doing, he took the lantern from my left hand, and used the light to examine my right, "Your hands're fuckin' freezing."

"It cold out," I answered. I was surprised I could speak.

"Ain't got a jacket?" he asked, eyeing the sleeves on my t-shirt.

"This is Georgia, in the summer," I replied, "No I don't 'got a jacket', _mom_," A witty response, good. I just had to keep playing it cool. I was doing okay so far. Daryl just scoffed, and moved his hand and the light up to my arm. I could see that the red had now turned to a purplish bruise, and was in the shape of a hand. He light brushed his thumb over the bruise.

"Next time ya wanna hit someone," he started, "don't aim for their face. Hit 'em in the stomach or something. It's softer and'll do more damage."

"Wish you would've told me sooner," I muttered.

"Why'd ya hit him anyway?" he asked. I shifted uncomfortably under his scrutiny. I definitely didn't want to talk about this right now. Especially with Daryl. But when I looked up at him, a mixture of understanding and just a little bit of anger flashed in his eyes.

"Have you met the man?" I joked, but Daryl wasn't having it. I sighed, and continued, "I don't know... he was just so angry and then he just shoved Sophia twice, right in front of me, I couldn't just let it go. If he does that right in the middle of camp, for everyone to see, who knows what he does when no one's watching. I just don't want Sophia to have to go through the same things that I did-" I stopped suddenly, realizing what I just blurted out. Daryl didn't seem surprised though, as if he knew all along about my family life. The blood quickly rushed to my face, and I prayed that he wouldn't notice, "Sorry, sometimes I start rambling and it's hard to stop. I'm just going to go back to bed. Good night."

His hand finally dropped from my arm; I didn't even notice it was still resting there. I turned from him before he had a chance to say anything, and made my way back to the tent, wondering if my face would be anything but red ever again.

* * *

**A/N:** Finally, another chapter done! Sorry for the wait! Also, how are you guys dealing with no new episodes until February? Because I am barely coping. That mid-season finale was intense!


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N:** Still don't own anything Walking Dead related; comic or show.

Just to be clear, _dialogue in italics is sign language._

Thank you guys for all your reviews and sticking with this story! All your comments are really helpful and appreciated!

* * *

**Chapter 8: Black Crow Blues**

Two days had passed since his outburst, and she was still avoiding him. He had to admit, it was entirely his fault.

It all started when Daryl noticed Diana had neglected to make any eye contact with him, let alone help clean any game he brought back. Though sometimes, he would catch her staring at him, but she always looked away the second he turned his head, pretending that he wasn't even there.

At first, Daryl wasn't bothered by it. If she wanted to act that way, fine. No loss there. He had better things to do than have some girl hanging round him all day. What did bother him was the fact he had no idea why she was acting like that. As far as he knew, he hadn't done anything wrong. They hadn't actually spoken since she gave him the cigarettes. Daryl realized he hadn't thanked her for the pack, but did she really expect him, of all people, to do so? And did that really warrant the silent treatment?

He let it go, resolving to ignore her right back. He'd be damned if he let on that her strange behavior was getting to him. Besides, he still had Merle to keep him company... although his brother was starting to grate his nerves even more than usual. Even Merle had noticed that something was up.

"Looks like ya lost yer lil' friend," Merle had said, nodding in her direction. Daryl turned, barely catching her glance as she immediately tried to make herself look busy. Merle grinned, "What'd ya do?"

"No fucking clue," he grumbled. He watched as she easily conversed with Glenn and T-Dog, though he couldn't hear what they were saying. He knew it shouldn't bother him this much, but Daryl couldn't help it. Whatever Glenn just said had her laughing, and Daryl scowling.

"Better watch out lil' brother," Merle chuckled, causing his scowl to deepen, "looks like ya got some competition."

"Can't have competition if I ain't competing for anythin'," Daryl groused.

"Keep tellin' yerself that all you want," Merle replied, "whatever gets ya through the day."

"Shut up, Merle."

"I don' know why ya even bother," Merle continued, "She don't like ya nor more, so what? Ain't like she's the last chick on earth or somethin'."

"Don't know what your talkin' about."

"Plenty of other pussy ta choose from, is all I'm sayin'. She ain't even worth it, brother."

"I'll tell ya one more time," Daryl spoke through clenched teeth, and his grip on the bolt he was cleaning tightened, "Shut. Up."

"Be better ta just move on," he went on, "That girl is fucked up. She's damaged goods."

"SHUT THE FUCK UP," Daryl stepped right up to Merle, their faces barely an inch apart, "Just shut up!"

"Alright, relax," Merle said, "Jesus, yer really carryin' a torch for that one..." he just shook in his head, and stalked off to his tent, chuckling to himself. Daryl gathered up his crossbow and bolts and headed for the woods, but not before sparing one last glance in her direction. Again, she turned away suddenly, giving her full attention to T-Dog and Glenn.

_Fuck this_, Daryl thought to himself. If this was what Diana wanted, then... whatever. It was driving him crazy not knowing what had caused her to act like this, but Daryl wasn't one to grovel, especially when he didn't know what exactly he was supposed to grovel for. If she wanted to tell him what was up, fine, but he didn't think that would happen anytime soon.

After dinner that night, Daryl sat himself on the tailgate of his truck, and lit a cigarette. One of the ones that she had given him the other night. He had caught Diana sneaking glances at least five times during dinner, which just added to his frustration. He had just resigned himself to just let it go for good when who else but Diana herself walked over, hold a neatly folded bundle of clothes in her hands.

"Carol washed these earlier," she held out the clothes to him, keeping her eyes on her own feet, "She asked me to give them to you." He took them from her, and nodded. She lingered for a moment, seemingly wanting to say something. Instead she just shuffled her feet, and bit her lip- a tick that he noticed from day one. But when she still refused to just look at him, he snapped.

"Ya pissed at me or somethin'?" The words were out before he could stop himself. Finally, Diana looked up at him, her eyes wide and confused. It was the first time they had made eye contact for a couple days, and Daryl felt his stomach turn a bit.

"What? No..." She at least had the decency to look sheepish. Her eyes turned to the ground again, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You don't _know_?" he growled, letting his anger take hold. He still wasn't sure why the lack of communication on her part bothered him so much, but he knew that letting out all of his frustration felt good, "You tellin' me a smart girl like you can't figure this shit out?"

"Daryl, I-"

"Don't. Just don't," he was fuming now. She just stared at him, looking completely shocked. That only fueled his rage, "Ya wanna act like a stuck up bitch, fine! I don't fuckin' care. I never cared."

"I honestly don't know what you are talking about," she said it again, quietly.

"Bullshit," he spat. There was no controlling his anger anymore, "I don't want you hangin' around all fuckin' day anyway!" He hadn't realized that he started pacing, but all of a sudden he was full of energy. She just stood there, her eyes following him back and forth, expressionless. "Walkin' round here, lookin' all happy and shit, but your not, you're fucked up, plain as day. Actin' like you're fuckin' perfect... like your daddy ain't never beat you, like he didn't give you those fuckin' scars? Ya can look down on me all ya want, but ya ain't perfect; you're just fuckin' messed up. And I don't need that shit!"

Daryl was breathing heavily by the end of his rant, though he regretted every single word. But that broken look on her face almost had him taking it all back, apologizing, the whole nine yards. He just couldn't. As Merle always said, "Dixons ain't gotta 'pologize fer shit." But one look at the betrayal and hurt in her eyes, the slump in her shoulders, and the defeat that was written all over her face... he knew he fucked up big time.

But all of that was gone in a second. Diana quickly regained her posture and seemingly wiped away any pain his outburst had caused. When she looked back up at him, she wasn't angry, or sad. She was void of any emotion. The fact that she didn't yell back, call him an asshole, or just do anything made it infinitely worse for him. She gave him an emotionless stare, as if to show him that she had heard it all before, and then just walked away.

That had been two days ago. In those two days, he hadn't even caught her sneaking glances. It was as if he didn't exist to her anymore. Daryl would never admit it, but he had gotten used to having her around; she was someone else to talk to other than Merle, and she didn't treat him like the rest of camp did. And he had shot it all to hell. Although, he knew he would fuck up sooner or later, but he didn't think it would be this disastrous.

Apologies were unheard of in the Dixon family. Daryl had always been taught that apologizing was a sign of weakness, and Dixons weren't allowed to be weak. But he had always known better; going off on someone like that wasn't being strong. How did the saying go... the dogs with the loudest bark are the most afraid? Or was it the most guilty?

Fuck that, he wasn't some scared puppy. But guilty... he felt more than a little guilty for that. He had to make things right again, but he wasn't sure if an apology would be enough...

* * *

_Are fish your favorite animal?_

"Not exactly," I said, struggling to think of the signs Helen and Maddie had taught me. Since they had joined our group, some of us, mainly Lori, Miranda and I, had been trying to learn sign language so Maddie would have someone else to talk to other than her mom. Maddie could read lips very well, so conversations with her usually were one-sided and consisted of yes or no questions. Sometimes the other kids would sit in on our lessons, but their shorter attention spans usually won out in the end.

For obvious reasons, Helen was loathe to leave her child, but I had volunteered to watch Maddie while her mom went down to the lake to wash up. I wasn't so uncomfortable around kids anymore. Although, the fact that they were well behaved made it easy. Eliza and Luis sometimes had little spats, but they were siblings after all. Carl just followed Shane everywhere he went, so he was always kept in line. And Sophia... well, I hadn't seen much of her or Carol since the incident with Ed.

_What is your favorite animal? _she had to sign it a couple times, and spell out the word 'animal' before I understood. Luckily, I had the alphabet memorized pretty quick. We were looking through my Marine Life textbook; Helen had mentioned that Maddie was an animal lover, so I thought she would like the pictures.

"I don't have a favorite," I said, "I like all animals," I signed what words I could, hoping that she would understand. Maddie smiled, and continued to turn the pages of the book. Some of the bigger, toothier fish scared her a little, so I reassured her that we wouldn't need to worry about those in Georgia.

_I like the dolphins_, she pointed to a bottlenose dolphin, and her smile grew wider, _Can we go to the beach? _Again, she had to spell out some words, but eventually I figured out what she was asking.

"Maybe," I answered. I didn't want to crush her dreams, so I thought that would be the best answer. Helen told me that Maddie was born deaf, but she was always a happy kid, even when her dad was killed by a drunk driver the year before. Maddie had been through so much more in her short life than most of us, but she was coping better than some of the adults. But I guess the end of the world is kind of a hard concept for a five year old to understand.

We flipped through the book until her mom came back. They looked so much alike; both had blonde hair, though Maddie's was uncontrollably curly, and green eyes and freckles. They both even made the same faces sometimes. Maddie jumped up and happily bounded over to her mother, with the book in hand. She signed so fast that I had no chance of ever understanding, but Helen smiled at her enthusiasm.

"Thanks again for watching her," she said, "I hope she wasn't too much trouble."

"Nope, she was great," I stood up and brushed the dirt off my pants. Watching Maddie and Helen interact with each other was a little painful for me. I never had a relationship with my mom; I was always just a means to an end to her. But getting upset about it now was pointless, and I had learned to let it go.

"Good, she can be handful sometimes," Maddie tugged on her mother's pant leg, and again signed too fast for me to pick up what she was saying, "Maddie wants to know if she can borrow your book?"

"Of course," I said, "I don't think a book about fish can be construed as witchcraft, so I think it's safe," Joking about it made it less awkward for everyone. Helen laughed, and Maddie hugged my leg in thanks. She sat back down right next to her mother's feet and immersed herself back into the book.

"Thank you so much," Helen said, "Maddie loves books. She had almost an entire library at home. I wish I had grabbed more, but there just wasn't time..."

"She can keep it as long as she wants. I don't know how much a college text book will entertain her, though."

"Well, she loves animals so this will definitely keep her occupied. I just wish she had some kids her age to play with, you know? But even then... it's hard for her to make friends." Helen sighed, "I guess that doesn't matter now, does it?"

I just shrugged as an answer. Living in this camp, with these people... it was easy to fall into a routine and forget that the world as we knew it had ended. But the reality that Maddie would probably never have a play-date with another little girl, or go to school, or just do anything a normal child would do, really put things into perspective. Our old lives were a thing of the past now. It was sad to think that Maddie and the other kids would never have the care free child hood they deserved.

"I should get her washed up for dinner. I think she's bothered you enough for today," Helen patted Maddie's head. Maddie looked up at her mother and pouted, "Let's go, bud. You can read some more after dinner." She reluctantly stood up from the ground, clutching the book to her chest. Maddie waved, and followed her mom back to their tent.

For dinner that night we had some minute rice, canned fruit and some kind of rabbit stew that Lori and Helen whipped up. The food supply that Tyreese had brought with him had lasted for a while, but now it was dangerously low. Our portions had become smaller and smaller over the past few days, and since the hope for rescue was almost non-existent at this point, people were starting to worry.

"I can make another run into the city," Glenn offered. The kids had all left the campfire by then; we didn't want them to worry about the lack of food and supplies. Glenn pulled out a map of the city from his back pocket, "There's a department store here," he circled it with a red marker, "It's not that far into the city, so getting in and out will be easy. There's a grocery store a block down, too," he circled that as well, drawing a short red line between the two locations, "The department store will definitely have clothes, probably some first aid kits, stuff like that. I'll hit grocery store first, just in case something happens and I can't get to the other store. The food's the most important thing."

"Wait," Andrea interrupted him, "are you planning on going alone? After what happened to you last time?"

"I'll be fine. It's easier if I go alone."

"But it's not safe," Andrea protested, "You need someone to go with you. Besides, the more people who go, the more supplies we can bring back."

"Andrea, you're not saying you want to go..." Amy gave her sister her best puppy dog eyes. Even though they were twelve years apart, and they hadn't been all that close before the outbreak, they were all each other had left. It was clear that Amy was terrified of losing her sister.

"I'll be fine," Andrea assured her, "I can handle myself. And it's like Glenn says, it'll be easy, in an out."

"No," Glenn said, "You're not coming. I'm going alone."

"Andrea's right," T-Dog spoke up this time, drawing everyone's attention, "You need more people to help bring supplies. You keep goin' alone, you're gonna get killed."

"If we plan ahead, we can make it work," Andrea insisted. Glenn gave her and T-Dog a tired look. Even though I always worried whenever Glenn went out for a supply run, I agreed with him. Glenn knew the city inside and out, and he did always come back in one piece. Besides, I didn't think splitting up the group like that was a good idea. If something happened in the city, we could lose a lot of our people. We had strength in numbers. But after Glenn's close call last time... maybe it would be a good idea if he had some backup.

"It might be a good idea, Glenn," Tyreese said, "Think about it; the more stuff you bring back, the less trips you have to make. And more eyes will be safer-"

"Or it could mean someone gets killed," Glenn maintained his position on the subject, "If it's just me, I only have myself to worry about. I know what to expect going into the city because I've done it before. This isn't up for discussion."

"Give it a day or two," Shane finally piped up, "think it over. It may not be a bad idea, but you're the expert on this, so it's up to you," Glenn nodded, though he was still clearly against the idea. He wasn't going to change his mind anytime soon.

"You know," Tyreese started, "before we came up here, we were thinking about going to this neighborhood. It's one of those fenced-in places, where a bunch of rich people lived... What was it called, Julie?"

"Wickshire or Waltshire... something like that," she answered.

"Do you mean Wiltshire Estates?" I asked.

"Yeah, that's it," Julie said, "Wiltshire. We saw it on a map, it's four or five hours outside the city. You know it?"

"Um, yeah, my parents live there," I said, "Or... lived. I'm not really sure if... they're still um, there."

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't-"

"No, it's fine," I stopped her apology, "Don't worry about it."

"Anyways," Tyreese picked up where he left off, "It might be safer than just camping out in the open. Like I said, it's fenced in, and everyone who lived there were probably evacuated."

"So what are you saying?" Lori asked, "That we... just move in there?"

"The fence will have kept any walkers out," Tyreese explained, "There'll be actual houses to live in, instead of tents. We'll have real shelter for the winter. We can grow our own food, maybe set up some kind of farm-"

"No," Shane cut him off, "We have to stay here. This is close enough to the city for supplies, and when rescue comes, we'll be close."

"You still think we're gonna be _rescued_?" Tyreese all but laughed right in Shane's face, "Man, look around! We're on our own! We have a chance to live as close to our lives as we can get!"

"We would be putting ourselves at risk," Shane said, "We're safer _here_."

"Here we're exposed- there is nothing between us and those things. Rescue ain't coming. This place has everything we need-"

"I said no," It was clear Shane was trying his best to stay calm, but Tyreese was pushing him. Shane had dubbed himself our leader, and everyone went along with it; he was a cop, so he could be trusted. Tyreese was the first one to openly question Shane's decisions, and right to his face, no less. His patience was starting to wear thin, and Tyreese was pushing Shane to his limit.

"How about we all just think about it," Lori tried to break the tension between the two men, offering a compromise, "We'll sleep on it. We need time to figure it out."

The rest of dinner was a glaring contest between Tyreese and Shane, with everyone else attempting small talk. We were all too preoccupied by the choice that Tyreese had given us; stay here, where we comfortable and surviving, or leave to some place new, and give up hope of being rescued?

"What do you think?" Jacqui asked me as we washed the dishes, "About leaving here?"

"I don't know," I dried the plate she handed to me, thinking it over. I didn't think that rescue was coming. Hearing Tyreese say as much had confirmed it for me. But the idea of leaving here was scary. We had made a new life here, and who knew what the rest of the world was like now? Not to mention that I wasn't all too thrilled with the idea of returning to my childhood home, "I like it here well enough, but... Tyreese has a point. When winter comes, all we have are tents."

"The thought of actually having four walls and a bed is tempting," she sighed, lost in thought, "I miss having a mattress."

"Me too," I agreed, "And actual doors, with hinges, and doorknobs, and privacy. I never thought I would miss doors."

Jacqui laughed, handing me another plate, "Same here. So, you said you used to live in that neighborhood?"

"Yeah, I did," I added the now dry plate to the stack of clean dishes. The thought of returning to my childhood home wasn't really appealing to me. I had absolutely no fond memories of that place. When I left, I had no intention of returning. But now... now, it may be our best chance of surviving. The fence around the neighborhood would definitely keep out walkers. But there was no telling what we would find if we went there. It could already be overrun. Or there could be other people living there already. What if my parents were still there? What if they turned? As much as I hated them, I wasn't sure if I could handle that. If I could put them out of their misery...

"Diana?" Jacqui pulled me out of my reverie, "You okay?"

"Yeah, yeah I'm good," I answered, "Just thinking..."

"About your family?" I nodded, and Jacqui squeezed my hand, "I'm sorry honey."

"It's okay," I said, "Really, it is," I smiled, hoping that would be the end of that discussion. While I liked Jacqui well enough, I wasn't comfortable talking about my family with her. My parents hadn't been part of my life for a long time. I was happier that way. The less people who knew about them, the better. I had learned that the hard way when I accidentally said too much to Daryl the other night.

My rambling said night left me feeling vulnerable, stupid, and awkward. The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them. I had no intention of ever telling him about my family. I didn't want Daryl, or anyone for that matter to think I was self-pitying or pitiful. My past was done with, and I saw no reason to ever bring it up again. But for some reason, I just blurted the one thing so personal and shameful about my life right to his face. Something about him just caused my brain to shut down, so I just decided to avoid him for a while after that night. I was just too embarrassed to face him. He probably thought I was pathetic. Actually, I _knew_ he thought that. He practically said it when he blown up in my face over God knows what.

Okay, maybe I did know why, but I didn't think me avoiding him really warranted that kind of reaction. This is exactly why I never talked about my family; it could be used against me. And that's exactly Daryl did. I worked so hard to keep that part of my life hidden, and he just threw it right in my face. Despite his temper, I never actually thought he would say something so... so hurtful. While the only time we really spent together was when we were skinning animals, and most of that time he was justly critiquing my technique, I felt like we had a mutual understanding of one another.

But I was beyond done with being treated like shit, and I would be damned if I let him know how much his words actually hurt me.

"Are you just gonna stand there all night or are you gonna help finish these dishes?" Jacqui snapped me back to reality. I quickly resumed my dish drying job, and Jacqui just raised a questioning eyebrow at my actions.

"Yeah, sorry," I said. I decided then and there that I wasn't going to let it get to me anymore. If Daryl didn't care, then I didn't either. Not one bit.

* * *

It was dark out now, and the fire was low, little more than embers. Shane was atop the RV, keeping watch. The kids had gone to bed a while ago, along with most of the camp. Even Merle had passed out in his tent. The only ones still awake were sitting at the picnic table, playing poker, a small lantern giving them barely enough light.

Daryl had been watching them for almost an hour now, but he sure as hell wasn't in a rush. In fact, he wished he had more time to think of the perfect apology. Diana deserved as much after the way he treated her. That broken look on her face had been haunting him for days now. Daryl knew he had to apologize to make things right again, and that he owed as much to her, but apologies just weren't his thing. He hadn't the slightest clue where to begin.

"Glenn, you're like, $20,000 in debt," one of those blonde sisters, Amy, he thought, said, "You really suck at poker."

"I was already $40,000 deep anyways, thanks to college," he answered.

"I know the feeling," Diana admitted, "And now all that education isn't even worth anything."

"Well... at least you don't have to pay it off now?" Amy offered feebly.

"I'd rather be living in debt, safe in my shitty apartment. I would do anything to get my old life back," Glenn said, and the mood of the once happy poker game was shot to hell.

"On that depressing note," T-Dog spoke after a moment, "I think I'm gonna call it a night. I've had enough of wiping the floor with y'all."

The rest of them murmured in agreement, and wished each other good night. As they stood up from the table, Diana stayed behind. Pulling out her boot from under the table, she began to unbuckle the straps to place it back on her broken foot.

Right. Now was his chance.

But he couldn't move. He still didn't know what to say. Daryl felt his throat go dry. He rubbed his sweaty palms on his pants. He wanted nothing more than to just crawl into his sleeping bag and forget this whole thing, but his brother's voice in his head stopped his retreat.

"Dixons don' 'pologize," Merle's voice said, "That shit's fer pussies. Ya mean what ya say and ya don' go back on it."

Under any other circumstances, Daryl would've listened to Merle. But this was different. He wasn't sure why it was. Daryl pushed his brother's voice from his mind, took a few calming breaths, and tucked his peace offering under his arm. He slowly walked over to the picnic table just as she finished buckling the last strap on her boot.

Daryl made sure his footsteps could be heard; he didn't want to catch her off guard. It would only make it worse. Diana looked up as he approached. She looked completely terrified for just a moment; her big, doe eyes looking around for anyone else to latch onto, but she was alone.

He stood for a moment, collecting his thoughts as he scratched the back of his neck. Afraid she would leave, he spoke, "Mind if I sit?" She shook her head, and he sat on the opposite end of the bench. Diana crossed her arms over her chest, and stared at her feet. "I...uh," he started, but couldn't find the right words. He held out the denim bundle to her, "Here."

She eyed it, suspicious of his intentions, "What is this?"

"Just take it."

She did, and unfolded it slowly. Diana held it up, and turned to him, raising an eyebrow, "A jacket? Why?"

"Ya don't have one," he said, "And it's gonna get cold out soon. And it's too small for me anyhow. And..." he sighed, deciding it was now or never, "...and 'm sorry. Bout what I said. I was outta line, I just... 'm sorry."

To say the silence that passed between was awkward would be an understatement. He was desperate for her to say something, _anything_, to let him know where they stood. But Diana just continued to stared at the jacket in her hands. At least no one could say he didn't try. He was about to leave when finally, she spoke.

"My dad was a genius," she said, "He went to Yale and got some kind of nuclear engineering job... I still don't know exactly what he did. But it was important, and stressful. We had money, and he spent it mostly on alcohol. He wanted..." she closed her eyes, and exhaled. This wasn't something that was easy for her to talk about, so Daryl was patient, "I don't know if my parents actually wanted kids. But they had me anyways. So he wanted me to be like him, a genius. But I just wasn't as smart as he was. I mean, I wasn't stupid, I was actually pretty smart. Just nowhere near his level. He home schooled me until I was supposed to be in high school. He had set up a school house in our basement, with a chalk board and everything.

My dad had this pointer; it was just a long, wooden dowel rod. Whenever I... if I did bad on one of his tests, or he thought I wasn't paying attention..." Diana laid her hands flat on her lap, the white scars barely visible in the low light of the lantern, "That's how I got these. We lived in Maryland until I was nine, then my dad got promoted, so we moved down here. My mom made friends with all these pageant moms, so she decided to put me to use in that respect. She told my dad that he couldn't leave any scars or bruises; it could affect my chances in pageants. It was extra money when I won, and when I didn't, she wouldn't let me eat for a day or two.

I got into this private, all girl high school. It was really weird for me because I didn't have any friends growing up. I mostly kept to myself, and I did well. Eventually I did make a friend; this girl in my math class named Lucy. She was really sweet at first, and she had a lot of trouble with math, so I helped her. One day at lunch, she asked me about the scars, so I just told her they were from my dad. I didn't go into detail, but I think it freaked her out. She told the other kids in the class, and they didn't look at me the same way. I would hear them sometimes, making up wild stories about my home life, and some of them said I made it up, that I just wanted the attention. So I just went through high school by myself, and when I was seventeen, I left. I went to college on my own and never looked back."

This time, Daryl used the silence they shared to completely absorb her story. He always figured her childhood wasn't a pleasant one; having grown up with an abusive father and an alcoholic mother himself he could tell they shared similar pasts. Telling her story wasn't easy for her, and it just made him feel all the more terrible for the things he said to her.

"I've spent the majority of my life being someone's punching bag," Diana said quietly after a while, "When I left, I made a promise to myself that I would never let anyone treat me like that again. That night, after the thing with Ed, I was embarrassed that I'd said too much. That's why I was avoiding you."

"I didn't know that."

"I know," She sighed, "I should've just told you that, so I'm sorry."

"Don't be," he said, "I was bein' an ass."

"Yeah, a little bit," she smiled, "Look, I know that apologizing isn't easy for anyone, especially you of all people, so don't worry about it," Diana stood up, folding the jacket over her arm, "But if you ever talk to me like that again, just don't bother. I may be a chick but no article of clothing will help you then."

Daryl nodded, and couldn't stop the crooked smirk from forming on his face. She gave him one last smile as she wished him goodnight, and headed back to her tent. As he watched her go, he felt the weight of his guilt being lifted off his shoulders.

* * *

**A/N:** I'm kind of not feeling this ending, but I didn't want to put off posting this any longer. Please let me know what you think!


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: **Still don't own anything Walking Dead related; comic or show.

**A/N: **Alright, so please don't kill me for taking so long with this chapter. I was dealing with severe writer's block, and I also was writing another one-shot story for the Boondock Saints. _**(GO CHECK IT OUT PLEASE)**_ But next chapter we will be getting into show territory! Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 9: One More Night**

"I just can't believe you actually want to go," Amy repeated for what had to be the nine hundredth time. She and Andrea had been having this argument for almost a day and a half now, and it was really grating on my nerves. Glenn had given into everyone's badgering, and agreed to take some extra people on his next supply run. Andrea was the first to volunteer, much to her sister's horror, "You're gonna get yourself killed!"

"Amy, I understand why you're upset and afraid," Andrea said as calmly as she could, "but I have to contribute somehow. I've been sitting on my ass ever since we got here, and this is my chance to actually help out!"

"But you do help out!" Amy protested, "You help with the dishes, laundry, cooking-"

"Yeah, great, I've been the perfect house wife."

"You know that's not what I meant!"

"But that's what it feels like!" Andrea said, completely exhausted of the topic, "I don't want to sit on the sidelines anymore. Besides, I'm one of the only people in camp with a gun. They'll need the backup."

"You don't have to go out into the city and risk your life to get off of whatever sidelines you think you're sitting on! And you barely know how to use a gun! Please, _please _don't go," Amy pleaded.

"I'll be fine," Andrea maintained, turning to where I was seated outside the tent, "Back me up, here?"

"No," I refused, "This is between you two. Don't drag me into it."

"Yeah, but if you didn't have a broken foot, you would want to go too, right?" Andrea ignored my response completely, waiting for my answer. In all honesty, there was no way I was going anywhere near the city anytime soon. I had no desire to go, though I did understand why Andrea wanted to. She was strong and independent, and she certainly didn't want her survival just handed to her. Andrea wanted to work for it. Still, I wasn't sure if she was ready to put her life on the line like that. But there was no way I was going to tell her all that, because 1.) it was her decision not mine, and 2.) she would probably kick me out of the tent.

"Seriously, I'm not getting in the middle of this," I quickly strapped on my boot, and stood awkwardly, "This is between you two, so leave me out of it," I began to hobble off, and they carried on with their argument, though now it was centered around whose side I was on.

And that is one reason I was glad I was an only child.

I scanned the camp, looking for new company, but as it turned out, I didn't have to look far, "Hey, Diana," Tyreese called from behind me. Since Tyreese and his group joined ours, we hadn't really interacted all that much, so I wasn't sure why he was seeking me out now. But I had a feeling whatever he wanted was all business, "I need to ask you for a favor."

"Um, sure," I answered. What could I possibly do for Tyreese? I mean, it's not like I exactly had much to offer. I had a broken foot, so I couldn't help with anything too physical, and I barely had enough belongings to keep myself clothed and entertained. I was a little wary of whatever favor he needed, "What's up?"

"I need you to talk to Shane, about going to Wiltshire," Ah, so that was it. This task seemed more daunting than all the things I could imagine Tyreese asking of me. Not only did I have no desire to talk to Shane, (the man was completely wrapped up in his own world to ever acknowledge me) but I agreed with Shane about Wiltshire; I didn't think it was a good idea to go. I'll admit that it was mostly because I was afraid of running into my parents, alive or dead, but I was also comfortable here, and didn't really see a good enough reason to leave.

"I don't know, Tyreese," I said, "He's not gonna listen to me."

"He will. He has to. You used to live there right?" I nodded, and Tyreese went on, "Then you know the layout of the place better than anyone, and you the area around there too, where we can get supplies-"

"Tyreese, I haven't been there since I was seventeen," I stopped him, "It could have been completely changed since then."

"We can't stay here," he said firmly, "We're out in the open, with no where to hide from walkers. And what about when winter comes? The place has a fence all around to keep walkers out."

"Yeah, but did you ever think that those fences could be keeping them in too?" Sighing, I continued, "I just don't think it's a good idea. We've been okay here so far, and we have a good water source, and-"

"Weren't you the one who had to take out a walker not too far from camp?" He had a point, and he knew it, "We need to leave before more of those things find us. Don't you wanna go back? See if your family made it out?"

"I don't want to go back," I don't know if Tyreese was more surprised by my statement, or how bluntly and emotionless I put it.

"Why not?" he asked, giving me an incredulous look, "Don't you care about what happened to your family? They could still be there-"

"I have my own reasons for not wanting to go back, and I don't have to share them with you," I answered, narrowing my eyes. Tyreese's badgering and Andrea and Amy's arguing were really ruining my day.

"Whatever those reasons are aside, you still have to admit that it's too dangerous here. We're sitting ducks, just waiting for this camp to be overrun too," He said, determined to change my mind, "You _have_ to talk to Shane."

"If he didn't listen to you, he's not gonna listen to me. Did you try talking to Lori about it? He'd probably-"

"She doesn't want to leave either," Tyreese groused, "Don't you people get it? We can't stay here! It's just a matter of time before hordes of walkers leave the city..."

"I get what you're saying, but I don't think Wiltshire is the right choice," I said, "It could be overrun, or it might not even be there anymore. The city was bombed, so other neighborhoods could've been bombed too."

"No, that's not it," Tyreese glared down at me, "You don't want to go back there because of your 'reasons'. You're really gonna put yourself before the safety of all these people? The ones who took you in when they could have easily left you to starve?"

I don't think I've ever felt shittier in my entire life. Maybe Tyreese had a point; we would have good shelter for the winter, and the fence would keep walkers out, but I still had a bad feeling about it which had nothing to do with my past there. We could waste gas, and unnecessarily risk our lives getting there only to find it occupied by living or dead people, if it was still there at all. There was no telling what would be waiting for us if we decided to go to Wiltshire. But honestly, Tyreese was right. I didn't want to go back because I left for a reason, and promised myself I wouldn't return. And even now, at the end of the world as we knew it, I still was afraid of going back there. Afraid enough to put myself before the potential safety of others. And he called me out on it. To say that I was feeling guilty was an understatement.

"Hey, Spencer," I turned to see Daryl waiting, with what had to be dinner in his hands, "Ya gonna stand there arguing all day or are ya gonna help me skin these?"

God bless his timing.

"I'll think about it, okay?" I said before quickly shambled off after Daryl. I could feel Tyreese's glare following me to his truck. Without a word, Daryl dropped his kills on the ground; three rabbits and four squirrels. Not exactly his biggest haul.

"Deer're gettin' harder to find," Daryl said, as if he read my mind, "Figure we can stew these up, maybe that'll make the meat go farther," Nodding, I sat myself on the ground, and picked out a rabbit. He handed me the small knife that I always used. He placed the buckets in between us and got to work. Before I started in on my rabbit, I took my boot off. It was just more comfortable when sitting on my ass for prolonged periods of time. I flexed my toes, this time with considerably less pain than before Glenn had brought me the boot. But still, my foot wasn't one hundred percent better; I winced at the little movement.

"Still hurt?" Daryl gestured to the foot in question with his now bloodied knife. I nodded, starting in on the rabbit, "D'ya need any pain killers?" I shook my head. I didn't need Daryl dipping into his brother's stash (again) and starting something with his brother on my account. We worked in silence for a few minutes before he spoke again, "You've been spendin' too much time with that kid. Gone mute or somethin'."

"She's not mute," I replied, "Maddie's just deaf. There's a difference."

"Whatever," I didn't have to look, I could hear the eye roll in his voice, "You're usually the chatty one," That was true. Since that night Daryl had apologized for his blow up, we both pretended like it never happened. For someone like Daryl, apologies weren't easy. So I figured it would be best to just let it go, and that proved a lot easier than I thought. Normally I would've cut him out of my life for saying those things, but I found that I actually wanted to get over it, and I did. I went back to helping out with skinning and cleaning his kills, and everything went back to being as normal as possible.

Well, except for the small fact that when I was feeling chatty, Daryl actually talked back. Only a little, but definitely more than before. Our conversations weren't so one sided anymore. I guess opening up that night helped him to feel slightly more comfortable. Enough so that he shared some details about himself. Nothing major, just some stuff about where he grew up, his school days, work. He even admitted that he hated snakes after the kids had found a harmless garden snake in camp. (He insisted that he wasn't afraid of them, but they were 'little fucking bitches'.) But from the small amount he told me, I gathered that his mom wasn't ever around. If she was, he never mentioned her. The only thing Daryl said about his dad was that he now owned his truck. The only family member he ever seemed to talk about in length was Merle, but from what he told me, he didn't seem to be present either. The only thing I was certain about regarding Daryl's childhood was that he grew up lonely.

By the time I had finished with my rabbit, Daryl had already skinned two squirrels and was halfway done with his third. "Ya wanna pick up the pace?" Daryl grunted.

"Sorry," I grabbed the smallest rabbit, "I got distracted..."

"You're gonna cut yourself if ya don't pay 'ttention," he warned. Nodding, I resumed my work. After another minute or so of silence, Daryl spoke, "What we're ya arguin' 'bout anyway?"

"Tyreese wants to leave here," I said, sighing, "He says it too dangerous being out in the open. He wants to go Wiltshire, and he wants me to talk to Shane about it."

"Ain't that where all those rich people lived?" I nodded, "Why you? He can't do it hisself?"

"Tyreese said Shane won't listen to him," I explained, "And he thinks that he'll listen to me because I used to live there. With my parents."

"Ya don't think it's a good idea?" It wasn't so much a question as it was a statement.

I shook my head, "No. We're doing well enough here. Who knows what Wiltshire is like now? It could be overrun, or what if there's still people living there, and they won't take us in? And we can run into trouble on the road. We have a good set up here, and I don't think Wiltshire is worth the risk."

"Dunno," Daryl mused, "It'd be nice to have a bed again. And walls 'stead of a fuckin' tent. Be safer."

"Yeah, I just... never really planned on going back there. Ever," I muttered. I was a little disappointed that Daryl didn't agree with me, but I wasn't surprised. Empty, available, already furnished houses surrounded by a formidable fence was more than anyone could ask for these days. Maybe it wasn't such a bad plan after all. Maybe I just needed to hear it from someone else.

"So if everyone decided to go to Wiltshire, you would go too?"

"Didn' say that," he replied, focusing on the rabbit in his hands, "Me 'n Merle've been thinkin' 'bout goin' on our own. Merle's goin' with 'em into the city tomorrow, so's we can get some extra stuff case we decide leave."

"Oh," I tried my best not to sound too disappointed. Even though I wouldn't exactly consider us friends, it would be weird not having the Dixons around. Everyone could do without Merle, but Daryl was our bread winner. He wasn't the most pleasant to be around, but he definitely had his moments. Maybe after being alone so long in the cabin was making it hard for me to accept the fact that anyone I had met here, even Daryl, wouldn't always be around. Or maybe it was because I finally felt like I had friends, people to depend on other than myself, and that made it harder when someone left... or worse. I mean, I had a few friends in college, and even fewer in high school, but I considered them them more little more than acquaintances. Then there was Mark. That was complicated. We had only been dating barely a month, and I was gonna break it off anyway. He took care of that for me... at the expense of my life.

But now I had good people in my life now, who genuinely cared about me, and I cared about them. Sure, Daryl and Merle were more than capable to survive in the woods on their own, but they were just two people. We had safety in numbers, more eyes to watch out for each other. I knew that they weren't the most social and hardly got along with anyone at the camp, but even they had to know that going alone was more dangerous.

"Still... would be nice ta have an actual house," Daryl said, "Mebbe Merle'd wanna check that place out."

"Yeah, maybe," Now I was trying to not sound too hopeful. I didn't want to get too excited in case they did decide to leave, and I certainly didn't want Daryl to know that I thought he should stay, "This one's done. Hand me another?"

"Ain't none left," Daryl scoffed, "You're too fuckin' slow."

"Sorry," I said, rolling my eyes, "I guess we can't all be Bear Grylls."

"Don't gotta be, ya just gotta work faster."

"You know, I don't have to help you at all."

"Relax, you're the one who wanted ta learn anyhow."

"Yeah, and I am. But you've had years of experience," I reminded him, "I've been doing this for like, less than a month."

"Whatever," he stood, brushing the dirt from his jeans, and I re-strapped my boot to my foot. Daryl picked up one of the two buckets of fur and entrails, "Gonna take these out 'n bury 'em."

"I'll come with," I quickly finished with the boot.

"Nah, I got this," He shook his head, "Don't need ya hurtin' yourself any worse and gettin' myself blamed for it."

"I'm not gonna get hurt, and if I did it wouldn't be anyone's fault but mine," I looked past Daryl to see Tyreese sitting with Julie and Chris, and even from all the way across camp, I could tell he was glaring, "I could go for a walk right about now."

Daryl turned, seeing the dirty looks that were coming my way, "A'right, fine. Just keep up," He held out his hand, and all but yanked me to my feet. Once I regained my balance, I reached for the bucket still on the ground, and so did Daryl, "I got 'em," he mumbled.

"It's fine, it's really not that heavy," I insisted, lifting it easily off the ground, "Besides, you should probably have at least one hand free, just in case we run into trouble..."

"Fine. Ya gotta carry the shovel then."

"No problem," Daryl grabbed a shovel from the back of his truck and handed it to me. I slung it over my shoulder, and nodded towards the trees, "Lead on, Macduff."

Though Daryl had warned me to keep up, he slowed his pace so that I wouldn't fall too far behind. The walk through the woods was silent, but not uncomfortably so. I never felt the need for small talk with Daryl, and I would never expect it from him. It was nice to not feel obligated to talk, that we both knew the other didn't need it. That was something Amy, as much as I loved her, didn't seem to grasp. After about ten minutes or so, Daryl stopped, and put his bucket on the ground, "Here's fine."

"Okay," I set my bucket next to his, and started digging.

"I'll dig," Daryl took the shovel from my hands, "Last thing I need is ta hear about gettin' damn blisters on your hands."

"What a gentleman," I muttered, folding my arms under my chest.

"Just keep a lookout, will ya?"

"Alright, alright," I scanned the trees, looking for any signs of trouble, but I didn't see anything. Like, nothing. Not even birds or squirrels. It was as if all the animals had just up and left. No wonder Daryl's hauls had become smaller, "There's nothing out here. I don't even hear any birds or... anything."

"Animals got the fuck outta dodge," Daryl explained as he worked, "Once we moved in here, we scared 'em off. Plus, they got walkers ta worry about."

"So you've seen more out here?" I found myself suddenly wishing I hadn't left my pistol in my bag back at the tent.

"Just a few," he said, "still, it's more'n before. Probably leaving the city, headin' out here to find food." The thought of walkers leaving the city and roaming the woods just outside our camp was definitely terrifying. Moving to Wiltshire wasn't looking too bad anymore. Before I could stop it, a shiver crawled up my spine, "Ya scared of 'em?"

"You aren't?"

"They aren' so scary when ya know how to take care of 'em," Daryl shrugged. He deemed the hole deep enough, and dumped the buckets into it, "You killed two already."

I snorted, "Yeah, and I was scared shitless both times. Everyone is. I know the kids have to be completely freaked out. Amy has nightmares sometimes. I think Andrea does too."

"You have nightmares?"

"Yeah," I admitted, "Mostly about still being in the cabin by myself. Do you have nightmares?"

"I sleep like a baby," He said, gloating ever so slightly.

"Good for you," I replied sarcastically, "At least someone is getting their beauty rest."

"Shut up," He groused, smirking just a bit. Daryl quickly finished burying the guts, and we set off back for camp. Carrying the two buckets, I trailed behind Daryl. We walked in silence just as we had before, but I had a million questions running through my mind. Was he really going to leave? Where are they gonna go? Did they really plan on it just being the two of them for what could very well be the rest of their lives? But I kept my mouth shut. What did it matter anyway? Nothing I could say would convince him to stay with the group. Daryl would go wherever his brother went, and I didn't think Merle would stick around. Maybe if Merle knew that there could potentially be empty houses just waiting to be inhabited once again, he would change his mind. But more importantly, why did I care so much? I mean, Daryl was alright other than his rough, usually ornery personality. If he felt comfortable enough, and I was pretty sure he was more at ease with me, he would open up and even joke around. So I guess we _were _friends, in our own, weird way. Or at least, I thought so. I wasn't so sure what Daryl's thoughts were on the matter.

I got my answer as soon as we walked back into camp, "There ya are," Merle drawled, smiling, "Next time ya wanna go out in th'woods ta knock boots let me know so's 'm not spendin' half my day lookin' for ya."

"Shut up, Merle," Daryl growled, "Weren't even gone that long," Without so much as another word to me, he grabbed the buckets from my hands, and stomped off to his tent. Merle took one look at my now red face, laughed, and followed after him.

So maybe Daryl was as comfortable with me as I thought.

* * *

That night after dinner, Amy and I were sitting in our tent. She helped me exercise my foot, which was hurting more than usual with all the walking I had done. Amy only spoke when she was giving me instructions, though she seemed to have something she wanted to say. After catching her giving me a look for the hundredth time, I finally asked, "What?"

"Nothing."

"It's not nothing," I said, " You clearly have something to say so just say it please."

"I saw you with Daryl today."

"Yeah, and?"

"Well...what going on there?" she asked. Great. Another typical "girly" conversation that I was not prepared for. Amy had found out he had given me the jacket, though I did not give up that information willingly. Amy had an uncanny ability to coax certain private details out of people that they would rather not share. If the world hadn't gone to shit, she could've been an interrogator for the FBI or something. She was convinced that there was something going on between Daryl and I, and she couldn't be farther from the truth. But nothing I said convinced her otherwise.

"Nothing. Absolutely nothing is 'going on'. Can we just drop it?" I pleaded, but to no avail.

"If it's really nothing, then how come you hang out with him all the time?"

"Maybe because I'm sick of all your questioning? You know, two people of opposite genders can hang out without anything happening."

"Yeah, well, what about the jacket then?" Amy asked.

"We've been over this ten times already," I groaned, "It doesn't fit him anymore, can you stop reading so much into this?"

"Okay, but-"

"No! Just don't!" I snapped, "I said I was done talking about this, so just drop it already!"

"Okay, sorry," Amy mumbled.

"No, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yell at you," I sighed, "I'm tired and my foot hurts and I don't want to talk about him, okay?"

"Okay." She went back to helping me with my foot exercises for while before she spoke again, "I know you don't want to talk about him, but he didn't yell at you again, did he?"

"No, he didn't."

"Then why are you mad at him?"

"I'm not mad at him," I said. Amy waited patiently for me to continue, "It's just... Daryl and Merle are probably leaving."

"Like leaving the camp? For good?" I nodded, "Oh. Why?"

"I don't know, I guess they're not really getting along with anyone here."

"Except you." Amy pointed out.

"Yeah, I guess," I muttered, "I think it's more of a mutual toleration."

"Whatever you say." Amy rolled her eyes, "You told him you wanted him to stay, right?"

"I- what?"

"Don't play dumb with me." she said, narrowing her eyes at me.

"No, I didn't," I replied.

"Well why not? If he thinks no one around here wants him to stay, of course he's going to leave! You're his friend, he'll at least hear you out."

"I don't think so," I explained, "The only person he'll listen to it Merle. And Merle probably won't wanna stay no matter what. And I don't think that Daryl considers us friends."

"Do you?"

"I'm not sure." I admitted. I surprised myself by continuing, "I mean, we talk and joke around and stuff, but whenever someone else is around, and especially if it's Merle, he ignores me."

"Well, he's not the most sociable person," Amy offered, "Maybe he's just as confused as you are."

I had never thought about it that way before. Maybe Daryl _was_ confused. Maybe he was no better with the whole friend thing than I was growing up. I had already surmised that he wasn't exactly a social butterfly in his childhood, and he certainly wasn't one now. And the fact that Merle was always on his case about something probably factored into it too; Daryl didn't want to give his brother any more ammunition than he already had, and being friends with a girl was just asking for trouble.

Or maybe _I_ was the one reading too much into it.

"I really don't think he cares what I have to say, Amy." I said quietly.

"If he didn't care, then he wouldn't have told you they were leaving."

"I guess," I muttered.

"Alright," Amy huffed, grabbing my boot.

"Easy!" I hissed as she practically shoved the boot back on my foot, "What are you doing?"

"I know you're going to fight me on this," Amy started buckling the straps, "but I'm not going to let you sit around and sulk."

"I'm not sulking!"

"Whatever," Amy said, "You are going out there, and you are going to tell Daryl he should stay."

"Fuck. No."

"Yes. You are."

"No!"

"Listen," She said as she finished with the boot, "If you don't talk to him about it, and they do end up leaving, you're going to regret it. I couldn't let Andrea go into the city tomorrow without her knowing what I thought about it. Maybe since she knows I'm worried, she'll change her mind. And maybe you could change Daryl's mind too."

That was the difference between Amy and I; she still had hope. I wouldn't say that I was a pessimist, but I had nowhere near as much faith in myself, or anyone for that matter, as Amy did. Maybe it was just because we were raised so differently, but she always seemed to think that things would just worked out, but that wasn't true before all this, and it definitely wasn't true now. But Amy was right about one thing. I would live in regret for the rest of my life (however short it may be) if I didn't tell him I thought he should stay. Even if I did horribly embarrass myself, and he did leave, at least I would know I tried. And I wouldn't have to live with the constant shame. But if he did stay, then what?

"But...I can't just..." I sputtered as Amy helped me to my feet, "What would I even say?"

"You need to relax." Amy encouraged, "Just tell him what you think. Stop freaking out about it, it's just a conversation. That's what friends do, they talk."

"He won't-"

"He won't what? Listen to you? Then I guess he's not you're friend after all. But you're never gonna know until you try. So go try." Sighing, I went to leave the tent, but Amy stopped me, "Wait! Hold on a sec," I started to protest when she began digging through my bag, at least until she produced that damn denim jacket. Amy held it out for me, looking smug, "It is a little chilly out tonight."

I grabbed the jacket from her angrily and threw it on. It was a little too big for me, and it still vaguely smelled of stale cigarettes and motor oil, though I wasn't complaining. It actually was a bit cold. She gently pushed me out of the tent, and zipped it up quickly.

"You're not coming back in until you've talked."

"That could be a while," I said under my breath. I walked across camp, seeing Andrea and Dale atop the RV. I hoped to God they wouldn't ask me what I was up to, and luckily I went unnoticed as I passed by. By the orange glow of his cigarette, I could just see Daryl sitting at the picnic table, his back to me. I stopped, and the nerves took over. I knew Amy was right; it was only a conversation. So I shouldn't be so freaked out by it, right? But what if he got mad and thought I was being nosy? Or that I was being creepy or something? I looked back to the tent. Amy waved me on through one of the mesh windows. Well, at least if this went badly I could take it out on her.

I took a deep to calm myself, and continued forward. I told myself over and over to relax, it wasn't a big deal, get a hold of yourself, etc. When I was a few feet away, Daryl turned, nodding in my direction. Now that I was closer, I could see he was only wearing one of his home made sleeves shirts. "Aren't you cold?" I asked, taking a seat next to him.

"Nope," he blew out a puff smoke, "Nice jacket."

"Thanks, I guess the guy who gave it to me had some fashion sense after all," I joked. I was relieved to see the corner of his mouth curl into a smirk, "What are you doing out here anyway?"

"Me 'n Merle got into it. Just came out here for a breather," I snorted, and Daryl narrowed his eyes at me, "Whut?"

"Nothing, it's just.. you came out here for a breather, yet you're smoking. It's kind of ironic."

"Well what're you doing out here?"

"I actually um, wanted to ask... if you and Merle were still going to leave?" Getting right to the point seemed like a good idea, but the look Daryl was giving me now made me regret listening to Amy at all.

"Prob'ly." Daryl said, staring hard at the ground.

"I think that's a bad idea," I blurted out. He looked up at me, and I felt the all too familiar blush flood my face. But I wasn't stopping there, "I mean, where are you going to go? I know you guys are more than capable to survive, but we're safer as a group. It can't just be the two of you against the world. What would you do if something happened to Merle? You'd be all alone, with no one to watch your back. I don't think you should leave."

It was quiet after my sudden bout of word vomit. But not the usual, relaxed silences that we usually shared. It was tense. I felt like I really fucked things up between us, whatever it was we had going on. I wanted to melt into the ground, never to be seen or heard from again. Daryl nodded, and stood to leave. As he was putting out his cigarette, he finally spoke, "Since bigger game's gettin' harder to find, 'm goin' out huntin' early tomorrow, 'n I might not be back until the next mornin'. Figured since Merle'd be in the city, I won' have ta worry 'bout leavin' him here with y'all. I just... wanted ta let ya know."

"Okay, um, thanks." I said, standing as well, "Good night," He just nodded again, and walked back to his tent. Before I could stop myself, I stopped him, "Hey Daryl?" He turned back around, giving me a tired look, "Just be careful out there, alright?"

"Sure thing, sweetheart," Daryl paused, as if he just realized what he said, but quickly regained himself. He waved me off, and stomped off towards his tent, not giving me a chance to reply.

It went a lot better than I thought, but now I felt even more confused than before. He usually called me by my last name, Spencer, or 'princess' or 'city chick' just to piss me off, but never once, until now, called me sweetheart, or any other pet name. While it seemed to slip out against his will, he didn't try to take it back either. I mentally scolded myself for acting like a high schooler, and quickly headed back to my own tent. I needed to figure this out. Suddenly, I was very glad Amy was still up.

* * *

**A/N:** So this chapter is FINALLY done, and we'll be getting into the actual show within the next one! YAY! Please let me know what you think so far!


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: **Still don't own anything Walking Dead related; comic or show.

**A/N: **Alright, so I really wanted to thank all you guys for your reviews, they really help! This is my first foray into the world of fanfiction, so your support is greatly appreciated and makes my life! Also we will be getting into the plot of the show in this chapter, so the ball is now rolling. Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 10: A Hard Rain's a-Gonna Fall**

The sun had been up barely ten minutes by the time Daryl stomped out of camp. He meant to leave sooner, but Merle's snores had kept him up half the night, and Daryl had overslept. Luckily, everyone else, save for Morales who was on morning watch, was still asleep. Daryl ignored the other man's greeting, and disappeared into the trees. He wasn't in a sociable mood... to be honest, he usually never was to begin with. And his fight with Merle last night wasn't helping at all.

Daryl hadn't meant to tell anyone they were planning on leaving. It just slipped out. And he sure as fuck never wanted his brother to know he told anyone of their plans, especially since he had only told Diana. Already Merle was giving him a hard time for just talking to her. And when Merle saw her wearing his old jacket... Daryl wasn't going to hear the end of it. But last night, Merle was only focussed on the fact Daryl had accidentally let it slip that they were leaving.

"The fuck were ya thinkin'!" Merle snapped as he paced outside of their tent.

"Why the fuck does it matter?" Daryl spat right back, "All I said was we're leavin'. That's _it_."

"Ain't nobody's business that's why!" Merle growled. He stomped right up to Daryl, his face barely an inch from his brother's. Daryl flinched slightly, "They're gunna put two 'n two together when they find their fucking supplies gone, and we're gone with 'em! Already got all these fuckin' dead assholes ta worry 'bout, we don' need the live ones with guns up our asses too!" Merle took a step back, cursed, and spat on the ground. Daryl let out the breath he hadn't even realized he was holding.

"It ain't gonna matter," Daryl said after a few moments of quiet, "Once they find out half the supplies're gone, and we're gone too, they're gonna know it was us."

"So what?" Merle countered, "We'll be long gone by then. We don' need anybody stickin' their fuckin' noses where they don' belong. Why the fuck did ya tell 'er anyways?" Daryl didn't bother to answer the question because he didn't know why himself. And even if he did know, he sure as fuck wouldn't tell is brother. Merle chuckled darkly, "Ya really think she give two fucks if ya leave? Even if ya stay? 'Cos she don't."

"Shut up, Merle..."

"I mean, 's only a matter of time 'fore someone better comes along and she forgets all about ya," He ignored Daryl's warning and continued, "Probably what's she's waitin' for. Sure, ya make sure she's fed, teach 'er a thing're two, but one day she's gonna be done with ya and gone quicker than you can blink. Better git yer dick wet while ya still can."

"For fucks sake," Daryl growled, "Shut up!"

"I'm just bein' honest with ya."

"You ain't been honest a day in your life."

"I'm just lookin' out for ya, someone's gotta."

"Never done that neither," Daryl mumbled.

"Is that right?" Merle smirked, "I told ya the same thing when ya were with that Annie chick. An' look what happened with 'er."

"I said shut the fuck up," Daryl warned, sounding more defeated than angry. Merle's grin widened as if he had won some kind of victory.

"Like I said," Merle put a hand on his shoulder, "I'm lookin' out for ya. No one else ever will, and they sure as fuck ain't gonna care. So get your shit together and be ready ta leave when I get back. Wanna make sure we get the good stuff from this run."

"The 'good stuff' don't include anythin' that ya can snort," Daryl said.

"Fuck off, man," Merle walked off to his tent, giving him the finger as he went. Daryl yanked opened the passenger side door of his truck, and fished out his pack of cigarettes from underneath the seat. Luckily Merle hadn't thought to look for them there. He stomped over to the picnic table on the opposite end of camp, and as far away from Merle as he could get. He had six cigarettes left; this could be the last pack he could get for a long time, and he planned on making it last. Merle didn't need to know it existed.

Daryl held the pack in his hand, staring hard at the red and white box. It was the pack that Diana had given him. No one ever gave him anything, except occasionally on birthdays and Christmas. He worked for everything he had. Technically, Diana had only given him the pack in return for the pills he had given her for her foot. On the other hand, he was the one out hunting almost everyday for the camp, and all he got for his efforts were side-eyed glances and the occasional thank you from Dale. Diana was the only one who ever offered to help clean his kills, or even just talk to him. That had to count for something. Still, Merle's words buzzed in his head, casting a multitude of doubts in his mind. Merle was right about one thing: no one ever had his back. Maybe in his own, unconventional way, Merle _was_ looking out for him. It would be a first, and probably not done with the right intentions, but it would still be a welcome change for the Dixons.

At least, that was what he thought until later that night. Diana was probably the only person in the entire camp who would sit and talk with him just for the sake of it. But if he was being honest, she was the only one he could at least tolerate doing so. She had sat down right next to him, wrapped in his old denim jacket. That small detail made him feel... something. He didn't know what, but it was definitely _something_. After commenting on his lack of fashion sense, she became tense, and launched into a short tirade when Daryl told her that he and Merle were still set on leaving.

"I think that's a bad idea. I mean, where are you going to go? I know you guys are more than capable to survive, but we're safer as a group. It can't just be the two of you against the world. What would you do if something happened to Merle? You'd be all alone, with no one to watch your back. I don't think you should leave."

Daryl was surprised by the worried tone of her voice. No one ever worried about Daryl Dixon; everyone knew he could take care of himself, and that he preferred it that way. He watched from the corner of his eye as she fiddled with one of the buttons on the sleeve of the jacket. He was looking for any sign of sincerity, that she meant what she was telling him. She was staring hard at the ground, her brow furrowed and lips pressed into a thin line. Daryl saw how anxious she was, for him, of all people, and the _something _grew to a point that scared him.

He found himself cutting his cigarette break short. Daryl quickly put out the cigarette, and explained his hunting plans. He wasn't sure why, but he wanted to make sure she knew he wasn't leaving. Not yet, anyway. Seeming relieved, Diana stood as well and bid him goodnight. Finally, he was free from the tension and whatever that _something_ was.

"Hey, Daryl? Just be careful out there, alright?"

"Sure thing, sweetheart."

The words were out before he could stop himself, and he froze. Judging by the shocked look on her face, Diana was just as surprised at his choice of words as he was. He quickly turned and stomped off to his tent before she could respond. Daryl waved her off, too embarrassed to look back.

Daryl thought that sleep would erase the frustration of the previous night, but he was wrong. He stomped through the woods, hoping to find something to kill in order to alleviate his foul mood. He was still fucking pissed at Merle, and he was still embarrassed from the conversation with Diana. Overall, he felt conflicted. Merle was dead set on leaving, but not before the cleaned out this camp of anything and everything useful they could get their hands on. But the worried look on Diana's face was burned in his mind, and was almost enough to make him stay.

Merle was blood though. And if Merle was leaving, so was Daryl. Maybe he could at least talk his brother into not robbing the camp blind, just to ease his guilt some. But why should he feel guilty? The world had ended, and it was all about survival now. If they were going to make it on their own, they would need all the supplies they could get. It wasn't his fault these assholes didn't keep a better eye on their things. Besides, he wasted enough of his time feeding the whole camp with hardly any appreciation in return.

_Fuck them, _Daryl angrily kicked at a pile leaves. Merle was right; they didn't care about him, and why should they? Why should he care about them? They were weak. Without him hunting and the asian kid going into the city, they would starve. Sticking with this group would probably get him killed. And they were too fuckin' nosy. He also didn't need to deal with the _something_ on top of everything else. Daryl had a feeling as to what it might be, and he knew the more time he spent with _her_, the worse _it_ would become.

But he still felt a twinge of guilt at the thought of leaving. Who was gonna keep these people fed? And Merle and Daryl were the only others in camp who knew how to properly handle a gun, besides Shane. Maybe Diana was right too; they were safer as a group. He felt responsible for her at least. Daryl was the one who had found her that day. But he was sick of the looks, the general disdain, and just a bit of fear the others seemed all to ready to send his way. It would be best to leave as quickly and quietly as possible. She would be fine without him. People usually were, and they almost always preferred it that way.

Still, he would feel a lot better if he could find a way back into Merle's stash and leave some of the stronger pain killers behind, just in case her foot still bothered her. Or maybe that was just the _something_ talking...

* * *

Our breakfast that morning was small, quick, and early. Glenn had insisted on leaving as soon as possible, so they could get back as soon as possible. He still had serious doubts about bringing a group to the city. And when Merle stumbled out of his tent that morning, bleary-eyed and completely out of it, I couldn't blame Glenn. I just hoped that whatever Merle had taken would wear off before they got to the city. Other than Merle, Morales, Jacqui, T-Dog and Andrea were also joining the group. I had no idea how anyone had convinced Glenn to let that many people come with him, and judging by the look on his face, he didn't know either.

"You okay?"

"Not really," he sighed, throwing a bag of emergency supplies in the car, "I just... I'm just so used to doing this alone. I had it all worked out. This is going to mess it up. Especially since Merle's coming."

"Just... be ready for anything," I offered, "He's unpredictable at the best of times, but he is the only one other than Shane who really knows how to use a gun. And he's got military training so he might even be handy if things do go wrong."

"Darlin', I can be more'n handy if ya wan' me to," I turned from Glenn to see Merle leaning against the van right behind me. I hoped he was too out of it to notice that I was blushing.

"Just get in the damn car, Merle," Morales said, and thankfully, Merle listened, though he made it clear that he 'wasn' takin' no orders from spics'. Morales ignored him. "We're all ready to go." Glenn nodded, and quickly took the front passenger seat before anyone could beat him to it. Most of the camp had gathered around the vehicle to say their goodbyes and wish them luck. This wasn't typical behavior, but something was different about this trip, and it seemed that everyone sensed it. Andrea was still trying to comfort Amy, though it seemed nothing she could say was helping any.

"C'mon Amy, I'll be fine!" Andrea insisted, "It's just a quick trip, I'll be back before you know it."

"Don't say that, you'll jinx it," Amy muttered.

"It'll be fine, you're just thinking on it too much," I tried to encourage her, but Amy still wasn't convinced. Probably because I wasn't too confident in the outcome of this trip either. But I couldn't let her know that.

"See? I'm not the only one who thinks you're overreacting."

"That's not what I said."

"Whatever," Andrea said, "Just don't let her worry too much, okay?"

"Can we just fuckin' go already?" Merle groused through the window, "We're losin' the light!"

Andrea rolled her eyes, and after saying a few encouraging words to her sister, climbed into the van. She, T-Dog, and Jacqui all squeezed into the backseat to avoid sharing with Merle. Everyone said their last goodbyes, and we all watched as the car disappeared in the distance. Amy and I lingered after the rest of camp resumed their activities. We stared after the van, and I did my best to look hopeful. But I just wasn't. I couldn't help but think we were due for some mishap soon, with everything going so well lately.

"I'm gonna lay down for a bit," Amy said, walking off before I could respond.

A short time later, Helen, Carol, and I were folding laundry, while Maddie was doing her best to teach us some more sign language. It was actually starting to stick, and Carol and I could keep up conversations about topics like the weather. Though it did help to have Helen translate from time to time.

"She's asking if you have any brothers or sisters?" Helen clarified.

"Oh! Actually, I was an only child," I said, signing when I could.

_Me too!_ Maddie smiled. She had a coloring book laid out in front of her, and Maddie had as carefully as a five year old could, colored a picture of a cat various shades of greens and blues, _Do you think they'll be back soon?_

"It's only been a couple of hours, honey," Helen said, "I'm sure they'll be back before dark though," Maddie seemed satisfied with her mother's answer and resumed her coloring.

_Mr. T-Dog said he would try to find another coloring book in the city_, Helen had to translate this time, _This one is almost done. I just hope they don't get eaten like my uncle._

Helen frowned. She waited for Maddie to go back to her coloring before she spoke, "My brother was with us when this all... happened. They got him. Maddie saw everything. She still has nightmares... who doesn't?" She sniffed, wiping her eyes before Maddie could see her tears.

"I'm so sorry, Helen," Carol placed a hand on her shoulder.

"It's just so unfair," Helen looked down at her daughter, who was completely oblivious to the conversation, "She's just had to deal with so much already, and she's only five! She's lost her hearing, her father, her uncle... and now she's lost any chance of having a normal life."

I was at a loss for words, and Carol seemed to be as well. What could we tell her? That everything would work out? That we were going to be saved any day now? Every day that passed, any hope of returning to our past lives dwindled. I couldn't speak for anyone else, but to me, the possibility of things going back to normal just wasn't happening. And it broke my heart that Maddie, and the other kids, would have to grow up in a world where pure survival would consume their lives.

We continued our folding in silence. Any casual conversation seemed a little inappropriate now. Luckily, Amy decided to make an appearance then. Her eyes were a little red and puffy; it was clear she had been crying, "I got some wood to make a fire for lunch. WIll you help me get some more?"

"Yeah, I'll catch up as soon as I'm done with the laundry."

"You go ahead," Carol said, "We can finish up here."

"Are you sure?"

"It's fine there's not that much left anyway," Helen insisted. Before I could reply, we all heard the static coming through Shane's police scanner. He had turned the thing on every day for a couple of hours since we got to the quarry. This was the first we heard anyone on the other end.

"Hello? Hello? Can anybody hear my voice?"

Amy dropped the sticks in her hands and ran over the receiver, "Hey! Hello?!"

"Can you hear my voice?"

"Yes! I can hear you!" she replied, "You're coming through, over." Dale came running over, and everyone else was paying close attention to the transmission from this stranger.

"Anybody hears, please respond...broadcasting on emergency channel... will be approaching Atlanta on highway 85...if anybody reads, please respond." Obviously, whoever this was didn't know that the city was lost. I watched anxiously as Amy tried to contact him again.

"We're just outside the city," Amy tried, but she still couldn't reach him, "Dammit. Hello? Hello?! He couldn't hear me, I couldn't warn him!"

"Try to raise him again," Dale suggested. Amy fiddled with the knobs on the scanner, and Dale turned to Shane, "C'mon on son, you know best how to work this thing."

Shane embedded his axe in the stump the scanner was sitting on, and tried to contact the stranger, "Hello, hello, is the person that called still on the air?" Only static answered, "This is Officer Shane Walsh broadcasting to person unknown, please respond." More static. Shane shook his head, "He's gone."

"There are others. It's not just us," Lori said.

"We thought there would be, right?" Shane replied, "That's why we left the CB on?"

"A lot of good it's been doing," Lori gave him a hard look, "I've been saying for a week we should put signs up on 85 to warn people away from the city."

"Folks got no idea what they're getting into," Amy added.

"We haven't had time," Shane stood, trying to end the conversation, but Lori wouldn't let up.

"I think we need to make time."

"That, that's a luxury we can't afford," Shane started, and I could tell this wasn't the first time they've discussed the idea, "We are survivin' here, we are day to day."

"And who the hell would you propose we send?" Dale asked.

"I'll go," Lori volunteered immediately, "Give me a vehicle."

"Nobody goes anywhere alone and you know that," Shane said, rubbing the back of his neck.

Lori glared at Shane, and we could all feel the tension between them. She stomped off to her tent, replying with a sarcastic "Yes sir," as she passed Shane. Shane stopped Carl from following after his mom, and reassured him that he would take care of it, whatever it was. Amy and took that as our cue to leave.

"Well, like Lori said, it's not just us," I said as we walked to the edge of camp.

"Yeah, it's good to know," Amy frowned, "Except that guy, and anyone who's with him, is heading for the city. He's probably gonna get killed."

"You don't know that," Even though I knew she was more than likely right about that, I could tell Amy was thinking of her sister. So I tried to sound hopeful, "Maybe it's not as bad as we think it is. Maybe whoever that was will even run into Andrea and-"

"So what was Mark like?" Amy abruptly asked, as she began to collect more wood.

"That was a smooth topic change," I muttered.

"I just don't want to talk about Andrea right now," she sighed, "Besides, you're the one who said I'm thinking too much on it. Please?" She gave me her best puppy dog eyes, and sadly it worked.

"Alright, alright," I relented, "I'll talk. But this is like, the _only_ time I will. So what do you wanna know?"

"Where did you guys meet?"

"In grad school," I answered, as I added more sticks to my pile, "We were both teacher's assistants for the same biology professor. It was a requirement to graduate. He and I would both work on putting assignments together and stuff. We started dating towards the end of the second semester."

"Was he cute?"

"I mean... yeah. Blonde hair, brown eyes... he was tall and fit too. He was on the Cross Country team in high school. So... yeah, he was." I reluctantly admitted, "Or is. I have no idea if he's still alive. If he is, and I ever see him again, I'm kicking his dick in the dirt." Amy laughed, and it was nice to see her smile despite her worry for Andrea.

"He definitely deserves it," Amy said, "Do you think if he hadn't left you behind, you would still be with him? Like, if both you guys were here?"

"I... I don't know," I answered thoughtfully, "Maybe we would be just because we would be all each other has, but if the apocalypse hadn't happened, I definitely would've broke up with him."

"Why?"

"Well, he was kind of too controlling," I explained. Satisfied with our piles, we gathered them up and started back for camp, "Sometimes, he'd order for me if we went out to eat. And he would make me change if he didn't like what I was wearing. Stuff like that."

"What an ass," Amy mused, "Ya know, Andrea would say those are signs of him being an abuser."

"He never hurt me. He was just full of himself. It was more annoying than anything," I dismissed her concerns. I wanted to add that I would definitely been able to tell if he was abusive, but that Amy always asked too many questions so I didn't want to get into that with her.

"Okay, okay, but if Mark was here, do you think that would affect your relationship with Daryl?"

Honestly, I was a little surprised that it took Amy that long to get there. Still, I couldn't stop what seemed like every drop of blood in my body from rushing to my face, "Daryl and I don't have a relationship."

"He called you 'sweetheart'," Amy said with a southern twang, "That's gotta be something."

"If that were so, I would be having a relationship with the old lady who checked out my groceries."

"Whatever. Deny it all you want, you're gonna regret it if he actually leaves." Amy said. We both dropped our collections of wood by the fire, and I was suddenly reminded of just how much time I had spent on my feet that day when a dull ache began to throb.

"Hey, I'm gonna go rest my foot for a bit," I told Amy, "It's starting to bug me."

"Okay. I'm gonna see if I can find some mushrooms, keep myself occupied," She sighed, picking up a small, red pail that was sitting next to the fire pit, "Besides, we need something more than just rice for lunch. Don't forget about your exercises, and I'll look at your when I get back."

Once I finally sat down in our tent, the pain in my foot got worse. I tried to do the exercises Amy taught me, but I was too tired and distracted to focus. The image of Amy and Andrea saying goodbye to each other this morning replayed in my mind. It was just strange to me, to see them interact like that, to see them openly express _and_ be sincere in how much they cared for one another. Honestly, I was jealous. I'd never been that close with anyone. Not even my own family, though I didn't really care to be close with them anyway. I had been on my own for so long, distracted by school work, bills, a job, that I didn't realize how lonely I actually was. Sure, I had Mark, but as I said, I wasn't really planning on sticking with him for long. I did have a couple of friends in school. Well, they were more acquaintances that I would hang out with from time to time. But I never had anything close to the relationship Amy and Andrea had. What if I was going on that supply run? Would anyone be that worried about my safety? And if I died? Would anyone care?

I just never really thought anyone _would_ care. But Amy, and even Andrea, were different. We had only known each other for a little more than a month, but since we were living in tight quarters and depending on each other to survive, it felt like I had known them for years. But obviously, I didn't have the same bond with them, or anyone, that they had with each other. With the world gone to hell, it seemed I would never get to experience that kind of closeness with anyone. And now since I couldn't have that, I wanted it even more.

I must have dozed off because all of a sudden the clouds had gathered and it began to thunder. For a moment, I forgot where I was, and I remembered dreaming. But it only lasted for a second. The only thing I could remember of the dream was an empty, sinking feeling. I didn't have time to dwell on it. The zipper to the tent flew open, and Amy all but threw herself inside, with Lori on her heels.

"Amy, honey," Lori said, "Shane... he just doesn't know how to handle these things. He just wants everyone to be safe."

"What is going on?" I was almost too afraid to ask. Amy had buried her face in her pillow and began to cry.

"There was a call from the others on the CB," Lori explained, "It was T-Dog. He said... he said they were trapped in a department store."

I felt my heart drop. I couldn't imagine what Amy must be going through. And Miranda and her kids too. We all knew the risk they were taking going to get supplies, but I guess we just refused to seriously believe that the trip could go this wrong.

"Oh, Amy, I-"

"I told her not to go!" she sat up suddenly, tears running freely down her face, "I begged her not to! Why didn't she just listen? Doesn't she care about me? Why did she leave me?" Amy sobbed.

"Of course she cares about you," Lori rubbed her back.

"If she cared about me she would've just stayed!"

"She went _because_ she cares about you," I said, "Andrea went to make sure that you would have enough food to live. She loves you, Amy. What exactly did T-Dog say?"

"Just that they were trapped, I think," she sniffed, "There was a lot of static, it was hard to hear."

"Well, maybe they found a way out. Glenn's done this a million times, and the rest of them, including Andrea, are smart. Even Merle's a hell of a lot smarter than a walker. I wouldn't believe she's gone until you're absolutely sure. So don't give up on her, because she wouldn't give up on you."

"I know," Amy said, "I just can't help but worry."

"I don't know what it's like to have someone to worry about me, or to even have someone to worry about, but whatever happens... I'm here," I mustered the best smile I could, and it seemed to work. Amy calmed down a bit, as much as anyone could in this situation.

"Thanks," She muttered, wiping the tears away, "I'm gonna go back to the RV, just in case they make another call."

"I'll go with you, give me a sec to put this thing on," I quickly went about strapping my boot back on my foot.

"Well, I'm going to have a talk with Shane then," Lori sighed, "He definitely needs to work on his bedside manner... or whatever you call it. Are you gonna be okay?"

"I don't know," Amy replied, "I'm just going to hope for the best. There's nothing else I can do anyway." She left the tent, leaving Lori and I behind.

"I don't know how she's going to cope if they don't make it back," Lori said quietly.

"Probably not well. That's the only upside of only having myself to look after." I saw the frown Lori was giving me, and I thought it may have been a little too much information for her. I left before she could say anything. I didn't want to hear it.

It had rained briefly, so Amy and I sat in the RV, playing poker. We didn't talk all that much. Amy wad clearly preoccupied. Every time she heard Dale shuffle around on the roof of the RV, she would look up, waiting for the crackle of the static from the CB. And every time she was let down. When the rain stopped, we moved outside, sitting in folding chairs right below Dale's lookout.

"This is probably a dumb question, but are you alright?"

"No," Amy never even looked up from the ground, "I'm not. I won't be until I know if she's okay. And even then, I might not be. But thanks. I mean it. It seems like everyone else has given up on them, except for you. You're a good friend."

Well, that was a first. I could get used to this 'having girlfriends' thing. I had to admit, it was nice to have someone to talk to and not feel awkward about it. But it was really nice to have someone appreciate my existence. "Thanks, Amy," I smiled, and she smiled back, "You know, you're actually the first friend I've had."

"Really? How?"

"Well, it's kind hard to explain... I guess I-"

A sharp wailing sound cut me off. Amy and I looked at each other, both wide eyed, before she spoke, "Is that... is that a car alarm?" She jumped from her seat, and looked up to Dale, who was scanning the area with his binoculars.

"Talk to me Dale!" Shane came running up to the RV, with pretty much the entire camp in tow.

Dale shook his head, "Can't tell yet."

"Is it them? Are they back?" Amy asked.

"I'll be damed..." Dale trailed off, still peering through the binoculars.

"What is it?" I shaded my eyes to look up at him.

"Stolen car is my guess." He said, lowering the binoculars. Not thirty seconds later, a red, very expensive sports car pulled into the camp. To everyone's relief, Glenn jumped out, with a triumphant smile on his face. At least, until he caught Shane's eye. Amy immediately asked after her sister.

"My sister, Andrea, is she okay?!" Amy's voice shook.

"Pop the hood," Shane ordered, but Glenn was too overwhelmed by the sound of the alarm, and Amy's unrelenting questioning, "Pop the damn hood please, POP THE DAMN HOOD PLEASE," he banged on the car to get Glenn's attention.

"Okay, okay!" Glenn quickly popped the hood, and Jim disconnected a wire from the battery to stop the alarm.

"Is she alright? Did she get out of the city?"

"Yeah, yeah! She's okay!"

"Is she coming back? Why isn't she with you?! Where is she? She's okay?"

"Yes!" Glenn said, completely exasperated, "We're fine, everybody is. Well... Merle, not so much." He gave me a quick, apologetic look before Shane scolded him like a child for drawing attention to our camp.

I don't know why, but I felt... panicked. Honestly, I always thought that out of everyone here, if we lost Merle it wouldn't be a big deal. But now that it actually happened, well, I felt guilty for thinking that. And when Daryl found out... I just hoped no one would end up with too many broken bones.

But Glenn never said Merle was dead, just that he wasn't okay. So when the cube van pulled up, I waited for a bruised and bloody Merle to appear, cursing us all and completely pissed off.

But he never did.

* * *

**A/N:** Yay! Finally in show territory! I think the end was a little rushed, but I didn't want to bore you guys with too much dialogue form the show since we've all seen probably hundreds of times. Please let me know what you think!


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